The Legend of DeVera: The Philosopher's stone
by Uchiha Lunabella
Summary: What are the things you should question in life; everything? nothing? If I went through life accepting everything given to me I wouldn't have much of a story now would I? Dissatisfied with faith, fate and fatality? Think Gryffindor and Slytherin's story seems just a bit too simple? I completely agree. Think Snape was the only good Slytherin? Think again. Book 1 of 7
1. Not Number Four Privet Drive

Nichelle DeVera was a very content woman, a very content wife, and a very content mother. She was quite average in appearance; she had short, brown hair that reached to her chin and chocolate brown eyes. She was a healthy weight, for she did not believe in such words as skinny or fat, and was a bit small in height; only over five feet. She had had an average, normal childhood in an average, normal town in Little Whinging. She had gone to an average elementary school and graduated from an average, normal high school (or as normal as high school can get). She went on to major in literature and minor in fashion in an average at a not so normal college (because what college _is_ normal?) and then she had graduated at twenty-two years old. Weeks later she had walked down a busy, average street that would lead to her new, average editorial job, and had bumped into a very _not_ average, _not_ so normal man.

Now thirty, she was happily married to that not so normal man. Her husband, Mordecai, had long ebony hair that he kept tied up and blue eyes as dark as the stormy ocean. He was quite tall, nearing seven feet, towering over her. He had a lean but dense build, and a hard stature that intimidated most people; it made his line of work a bit easier. And he was the most magical person in her life. Really. Discovering the magical community (and him) after college had been a bit of a shock to her, but she took it in stride, especially when the one introducing it to her was a drop dead gorgeous man that could actually make all her wishes come true. (Her first wish had been to quit her editorial job but that she had to do on her own.)

Her daughter, Roxanne, whom they had adopted at six, was the second most magical person in her life. This was because she was still in school, her second year at Hogwarts, and was nowhere near magical mastery…yet. If there was one thing Roxanne had inherited from her adopted father, it was his ability to transfigure and charm all that was within his reach. She would surely succeed as a brilliant witch. She had cinnamon, bouncy curls that stopped at her shoulders and bright, cerulean eyes. She was tall for her age, and very thin, but not too thin, or Nichelle would be writing much more often than she usually did. Thank god for school feasts…

Nichelle lived in a moderate house, a double ranch with white walls and gray roofing and trim, in a neighborhood her old classmate, Evans, would not approve of. She had many nice neighbors, muggle and magic, that did not feel the need to pry into her life, but were always welcome to her home. They often shared news with her over tea that poured itself and biscuits that cooked in a wave of her host's wands. She in turn showed them muggle magic, of lights that flicked on and off with a clap of one's hands, of blenders and coffee machines, of hostess channels and online recipes. The neighborhood was such a mish-mosh of magic and muggle that the Obliviators had stopped coming after the fifteenth time of erasing the minds of the entire block. It seemed silly really, why fret over things like pet nifflers and fairy light fixtures when they could spend time on more important things, like catching old Death Eaters? Such oddities that occurred in her friends' homes neither bothered nor scared her, in all honesty, those oddities were more normal to her now than her non-magical childhood had been.

She herself was an oddity, considering she was the best potioneer on the block. She was even better than her husband, though this could not readily be explained. Many wondered how she, a muggle, could be more potion oriented than her husband. It wasn't that hard to comprehend really. She had explained it to a neighbor of hers, who had asked her to help her with a pepper-up potion for her kids. The neighbor had been extremely shocked on finding out that Nichelle was a muggle. Nichelle had simply said back to the woman, "You only need to wave a wand once or twice for a potion and that's what my husband's for."

Her husband was currently away at the ministry, helping those that needed saving, searching for those who needed finding, and catching those who needed to be locked up in Azkaban for the rest of their miserable existences and then some. He was so brave, and with the other aurors by his side, they would find all of _his_ followers sooner or later. He was currently looking for some of them now; he had found a new lead on an old case, and was hoping to find a few Death Eaters that had escaped the Ministry's watch.

She felt a small sense of dread drift over her for a second, and let out a long sigh. She loved her husband too much not to worry about him, despite his insistence on not to. Not that he was arrogant, oh no, then she would be doubly worried he'd do something idiotic and get himself killed. It seemed most of the cases he took on, whether new or old, ended up at dead ends, so he told her not to worry. But these were freakin' Death Eaters… it was hard not to think about Modecai suddenly being trapped by them, poisoned by them, kil-…

She began tidying her home so as to take her mind off… things. As she vacuumed her home and moved on to her daughter's dusty, but relatively clean room, she thought about Roxanne. Roxanne was at school; so there were no crumbs to vacuum from late night snacking, no bed to make, no papers or books to organize, just dust. Dust from a vacant room. Because she was at Hogwarts, far, far away… Geez, did all mothers think this much about their kids when they were away? Or had she gotten too use to having her daughter stay by her side? Determined to shake the growing depression, she tackled the dust bunnies with a vengeance. She would later sit down on her living room sofa and seek the only means of communication with her daughter, a letter.

_I should send her some food as well, _she thought. Upon finding that Red Vine® and Starbursts® did not exist in the magical world, Roxanne had sent home a desperate plea last year for as many muggle sweets as possible for their owl to deliver. Nichelle dusted the lights and hanging photos, the small people in the frames moving from the duster, and then left to find some stationary and a pen.

"Maybe I'll send some pie too," she thought as she glimpsed at the half eaten pumpkin pie that had been last night's dessert.

She turned to the kitchen and found a roll of parchment and her favorite purple pen, and then turned to sit in her living room. Her tawny owl, Selvi*, had noticed her, and flew off her perch in the kitchen to the arm of the sofa to wait for Nichelle's finished letter.

It was 4:37 in the afternoon when she started.

It was 7:45 in the evening when she looked away from the blank piece of parchment to her disgruntled owl.

"I can't think of anything to write," she said to the owl. "Nothing particularly news worthy has happened since last week, and come to think of it, I already sent brownies."

Selvi gave her a look of great exasperation and flew out the open window to socialize with the neighboring owls. Nichelle gave the blank parchment one more glance before she gave up and rolled it up into a tight scroll. She didn't bother getting up; instead she clipped the pen to the scroll and flung both into the kitchen. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock again. 7:53.

"If there's anything good on, it'll be at the end." She looked towards the pile of DVDs next to the television. The stack had been created on the last day of summer, before Roxanne's departure. That had been three months ago. She picked up the first movie on the pile without looking at it, placed it into the player and sat down to wait for her husband. There were perks to being a stay at home mum (she had ditched the editorial job to go back to school for majoring in fashion), the first being her flexible hours. She would sleep with her husband, or _next_ to her husband, when he got home.

She had not realized that the movie she picked was the second _Transformers_ movie when she sat down with a blanket, popcorn, ice cream and soda, but decided to leave it in lieu of switching to the first movie. After crying over Optimus' corpse and cheering the fall of The Fallen, and with Mordecai still not home after two and a half hours, she continued with the third installment and then the first _Transformers_. When that too had ended, she glanced up at the clock on the cable box.

"I might as a well have watched all six _Star Wars_, and that man is _still_ not home!"

It was nearly four in the morning; what could possibly be taking this long? No matter how dangerous the mission, he had never been this late coming home.

"Never, not since-"

She started to pace between the living room and the kitchen. He had always come home between ten and twelve at night, occasionally one when there was paperwork to settle. But the last time her husband had been out this late, _he_ had still been alive. That god damn Hitler reincarnation had threatened her family and her life, nearly kept her child from ever living in the magical world she was meant to strive in. Her daughter would've been persecuted, eradicated; Nichelle herself killed off, as well as her 'blood traitor' husband. But that had been three years ago...

"The-Boy-Who-Lived saw to _his_ demise," she thought out loud, "but what of his followers? They were never as dangerous as _him_, never tried to start up again, rebuild. All the insane extremists are in Azkaban, only the imperused... or the supposed imperused are still out there." She couldn't keep the worry away. She kept pacing up and down between the kitchen and living room continually glancing at the clock. At some point she stopped and took one of the pictures of Mordecai off the wall. She stared at his handsome features, his strong jaw, his dark eyes, his determined air and stance, and at five o'clock she had reached her decision.

She reached into an old snuffbox, which did not contain tobacco, but a curious silvery powder. She would never let tobacco cross her doorstep; the last of her ancestors to smoke was her great grandfather. She relit the dying fire and threw a pinch of the floo powder into the flames. The fire turned an emerald green. She stepped into the flames and called out "The Ministry of Magic!"

A swirl of ash and a dizzy sensation followed, and then she found herself in the grand fireplaces of the ministry. She stepped out onto the black tile of the atrium, dusted her skirt off and looked up.

Everything was chaos.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Hello! This LB, saying hi for the first time on FF. hope your enjoying so far. Just want to say, please disregard the years in which certain movies or products were made. I know transformers came out way pass the time of harry potters school years, just disregard that.**


	2. To the Ministry

She was standing in a realm of great distress and disorder. Wait, I take that back. She was standing in a realm of greater distress and disorder than was usual for the magical world. Where purple memos usually floated above the employees of the Ministry, swiftly but smoothly flying to their recipients, they were now zooming back and forth from cubicle to lift and back again in a crazed manner. Some crashed and crumpled to the floor where they were further trampled by the rush of hundreds of feet. Joining them on the ground were other pieces of parchment, photos, quills, the odd forgotten wand, and sometimes people that could not keep up with the chaos.

Ministry employees stomped, hurried and flung from each other's cubicles, shouting nonsense back and forth.

Nichelle pushed through the crowd blocking the line of fireplaces and slid through the panicking bodies, maneuvering herself towards the secretary hub near the center of the atrium. After nearly tripping over memos on the slippery black tile, jumping over fallen bodies and waving towards Jim the security guard, she finally found herself facing a slight woman with curly blonde hair. She looked vaguely gleeful at the disorder.

"Excuse me, I am looking for my husband, he's an Auror-"

"Oh I know who you are," said the witch distractedly, "Yes, yes, Ms. DeVera, your husband was here for a mission, went out, and oh what a scandal he brought back with him!"

"Could you please direct me to him?" The secretarial witch did not answer; she had gone back to smiling blankly at the other panicked employees. "Excuse me!"

"Huh?"

"Take me too my husband?"

"Oh yes, right..."

Nichelle followed the secretarial witch through the chaos of purples memos and scrambling ministry employees to the nearest lift, and watched as the witch began to shove the confused mob out of the way.

"Move it you dunderheads! Get out of the lift already!"

After much screaming, harassment and threatening of broken fingers, the secretarial witch managed to pull Nichelle through to the lift, push the second floor button, and were on their way.

"The Ministry's in a complete uproar, as you can see. We've been having these massive outbreaks of muggle harassment and abuse. Not that stupid stuff that Misuse of Muggles Artifacts goes through everyday, real events like murders, threats and kidnappings..." the witch trailed off.

Nichelle was somewhat surprised at the amount of information she was receiving. Even on quiet trips to the ministry, despite her acceptance to all things magical, and the authority of her husband, she had been bared from even the most trivial of information- like standard cauldron thickness. Despite the fall of the Death Eaters, prejudice, and overall wariness of muggles in general kept the ministry employees from speaking openly with her.

"May I ask your name, miss?

"Bertha Jorkins"

"Thank you." That explained a lot. Mordecai had told her about Jorkins. She couldn't hold a position in any department the Ministry placed her in, and couldn't be trusted in keeping any secret they told her. If it meant denying who she truly was, the gossip queen, Nichelle supposed Jorkins would probably blab all she knew on the minister in revenge. She guessed the International Confederation of Wizards never foresaw someone so against the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

"Second floor, Auror Headquarters," spoke the cool women's voice that guided the lifts.

"Through here," Jorkins pulled her like she was taking her to some sort of surprise. Nichelle didn't really need the help; she had been here plenty of times. All she needed to know was where Mordecai was, but I guess in an emergency...

She passed small cubicles dotted with Daily Prophet articles and pictures. Some were articles of brilliant captures, others were photos of those still at large, a mug shot framed with rewards, a single number followed by many, _many_ zeros. Knives were as common as quills in pen cups, and strange silver and bronze instruments sat at the corner of desks, twirling and puffing smoke. On the more innocent side, there were pictures of families, friends and lovers, and an odd object of entertainment of some sort. Even aurors needed desk toys.

Here and there were crumpled bits of parchment and unlucky purple memos scattering the floors, and many still zooming through the air. Despite the flying paper, the office was much calmer than the lower floors, eerily quiet. Of the many cubicles on the floor only one was occupied. A very straggly small wizard, somewhat skeletal looking, sat with his head down intent on his work. However, his ear was turned to the whispers Nichelle could now hear coming from a room far back from the lift. Bertha Jorkins led her down to a heavyset office door. It was the briefing room, where many Aurors were given details on co-op missions. Usually the room had a silencing charm on it, yet Nichelle could hear the sound ever growing.

"I leave you here Ms. DeVera," said Jorkins with the slightest disgruntled face. No doubt she wished to listen in.

"Thank you."

Nichelle slowly opened the door only to meet a castrophany*, the voices so loud no charm could ever block the noise. She wondered for a moment, in the time she was unnoticed, whether or not they had all magically amplified their voices.

There were four wizards standing to one side of the large, wood paneled, beige carpeted room, tensed and at the ready for an attack. They were bulked, square jawed and intimidating, yet not so intimidating as the ten or fifteen smaller, angrier witches and wizards on the opposite side of the room. The majority of them were older, ancient looking wizards, those that thought they'd seen everything, but were blind beyond anything outside their knowledge. It was from them that the majority of the sound was coming from. They were screaming at the Aurors on the other side of the room and screaming at each other, all the while the Aurors stood silent and stony faced.

One of the men, the tallest and leanest built of the four Aurors, turned slightly toward her and gave her a small smile.

"G'evenin' Nichelle." He said, dipping his dirty blond head toward her. "Or maybe I should say G'mornin."

As loud as the room was, the sudden loss of all sound made her ears ring even more. One of the elderly, bickering wizards swiveled around to face her and said with a cold croaking "_You!_ You are not allowed in here! Who the bloody hell let this women in here!"

"She is the muggle wife of that Auror, DeVera. She has no doubt come to meddle..." sneered an even older, wrinkled witch.

Nichelle had stopped listening then as the large group converged on itself to argue about her. And what did that old hag mean "muggle wife", as though her husband had another wife somewhere. Those damn, prejudice...

"What's going on Oliver?" she said in a hushed whisper as she neared the Aurors. At a closer look she could see small scrapes and cuts on their faces and hands, some rips in their clothing.

"We've come back from a ...mission. I'm sure Modecai will give you the details." He looked toward the old group and whispered, "They won't bother us now." He nodded toward one of the other Aurors, who slipped the tip of a hidden wand to the edge of his sleeve. He flicked it slightly, and the group of elderly wizards began to move in slow motion. Their arms flailed and mouths flapped in sluggish, exaggerated motion as they slowly reacted to the Aurors and Nichelle leaving the briefing room at normal speed.

A shorter, muscled, red headed Auror by the name of Marcus pushed the door open to find Jorkins crouching on the floor, ear against the wall, looking up at them with the worst innocent expression in the history of faked facial features.

"Eh, heh, heh, heh..." she laughed weakly.

"Let's go Chell," Oliver said as they escorted her to a fireplace in a corner of the headquarters, large enough for five grown men to travel in at a time.

"Where are we going?"

"Saint Mungo's," said the youngest of the Aurors, a handsome, black man with gold earrings.

"Mordecai's hurt!?" she screeched. She should have been notified immediately!

"You'll see..."


	3. St Mungo's

The group of five exited the large fireplace into a large white room lined with other fireplaces of vary size. The floor was composed of bleached linoleum and many dirtied welcome mats. Several large signs in bold purple font lined the wall near the door to the main lobby of the hospital, telling the visitors to please wipe their shoes on the mats. They did so, and all the soot was magically wiped from their person. Nichelle hurried through the door, through the waiting room and up to yet another secretarial witch. Sorry, _welcome_ witch, though she did not look too welcoming. The quartet of Aurors followed calmly behind her.

"What room is Modecai DeVera in?" she said in a rushed demand to the witch. She had never seen this one before, the witch was probably new, yet she wore the same tired expression as her many predecessors.

"There is no Modecai DeVera registered here," the witch said in a bored tone, not bothering to look at her records.

"Maybe if you turned the pages of those lists there, or actually gave a damn about the patients in this hospital, you'll find out where my husband is." Nichelle hissed.

The welcome bitch was beginning her retort when Nichelle was gently pushed away from the counter and replaced with a menacing, seven foot, scowling wizard.

"I'd like you to tell me," Oliver whispered as he pulled out a silver angular badge with a large "M" and flashed it in her face, "where the two Aurors that entered here at 0300 hours have gone."

"U-up stairs..."

"What floor." Demand, not question.

"Fourth floor, r-room 435," she squeaked, eyes down to her desk.

The quartet began to walk toward the lifts with Nichelle in the center, all looking very much like her bodyguards. They entered the lift and Nichelle turned to see many of the patients and visitors in the waiting room giving them all an odd look before the gate closed. Marcus pressed the fourth floor button and they began to ascend.

"Oliver, Marcus, what the hell is going on? What happened to Modecai? Why don't you already know? Why didn't anyone get me?!

"Your husband is not injured Nichelle," Oliver said softly. He should have told her earlier, it was better she be as calm as possible, he knew her wrath. "There was another casualty."

"The second Auror?" she asked, remembering what he had said to the welcome witch.

"No."

They exited the lift and walked down a very different hallway from the rest of the floors she had ever seen. The white brick walls were splashed with bright colors and pictures of animals, mythical creatures, stars, balloons and other childlike decorations. A bulletin board decorated with children's drawings posted events and classes for infant and childcare, yearly vaccination potions, and new cold, flu, and rash potions for the season recently approved by the head healers. A large window showed a room with newborns, some screaming out their lungs, the other completely dead to the world, while many lime-clad healers tended to them.

"A-are we in a children's ward? Why?"

The wizards did not say anything, but led her to the last door on the right of the hall. They stopped in front off a thick oak door and waited for her go through. She gulped.

"What am I going to find on the other side of this door?"

"Open it."

Nichelle let out a breath she did not know she had held, and slowly turned the doorknob.

She entered a forest themed play area; the walls painted to depict deciduous trees, flowers, shrubs and grass. Large and small stuffed animals of the forest littered the green and brown-carpeted half of the room, as well as blocks, picture books, and miniature boats and trains. The other half of the room was tile, the walls an off white, filled with a few straight-backed chairs for parents and healers to sit in and a counter with papers, notices and pamphlets neatly piled. Two healers were discussing in low whispers in this area, while in the play area a redheaded healer witch was kneeling down and talking in a soothing voice to someone she could not see. Nichelle edged closer and finally spotted her husband sitting cross-legged on the floor with someone in his lap. He had cuts and scrapes along his jaw and large arms; blood, sweat and earth stained his robes. But he was not in any immediate danger, not compared to the small child in his arms.

The child was very small, emaciated and was sitting stock still within Mordecai's arms. Her blonde hair was ragged and dirtied with soil and dried blood, twisted in twigs and leaves. In some places her hair came down to the child's hips, in others it looked like it had been torn from her skull. Where her skin was not covered in red blotches, purple bruises, cuts, scrapes, hole marks and scars, it was a sickly, nearly transparent white. It looked as though she had never had a bath in the four or five years she had been alive, many of her wounds looked infected, she had dirt and blood under her fingernails. The robe she wore may have been any beautiful color at one point, but was now mucked with grasses and mud and crimson splashes, the edges and sleeves were torn and worn in many places. She wore no shoes, her feet small, hardened and blistered and mud coated. She did not scream; she did not need to, as her turquoise eyes stared out unblinkingly in absurd terror.

Nichelle put her hands to her mouth in a silent gasp, yet the girl somehow heard her, and shrunk further into her husband's arms. The healer witch did not look away from the child as Modecai acknowledged the presence of his wife with a shift of his eyes. Instead the healer continued to murmur to the child.

The two other lime green clad healers in the room, a witch and a wizard, took Nichelle's arm and pulled her to the opposite side of the room to the adult area, past the counter and out of sight of the little girl. They led her through a door to a small branching room and the witch softly closed the door.

"We did not expect you to be here Ms. DeVera-" began the wizard.

"Always expect me to come after my husband," she said, voice hard.

"Yes well…the situation is much different than anything you may have foreseen-"

"Who is that child? Who the hell could've done something like that to a little girl?"

"We're not at liberty to discuss that matter-" the witch began to say, but was cut off by an agitated Nichelle.

"The hell you are! That girl looks like she's been tortured since she breathed her first breath! Where did she come from?"

"This matter is not open to discussion," glared the wizard, still grasping her arm as she made an attempt toward the door, "She is now under the custody of the Department of Welfare of Magical Children, who will see to her full recovery. You have no business here."

"My husband carried in that child didn't he?! I'm willing to bet anything that you or your department can't do anything to make her let go of his arm, except more trauma." It was all she could do to try and pull her arm free from the wizard healer's grasp. She may have to resort to something violent.

"I can assure you she will be fine in the hospital's care. Now, we will have security escort you out," the witch spat.

"No need for that. She has her own security," came Marcus from behind the witch.

"You are not allowed in this room, sir, and you do not have the authority in this kind of situation," said the wizard healer.

"Maybe you should all start worrying about your patient before you worry about the amount of authority I have," dead panned Marcus.

Nichelle had moved toward the door back to the other room while Marcus and the wizard argued and opened it to find the fourth Auror that had escorted her, next to an unfamiliar face and Oliver.

"Quietly Nichelle, sit over here," the fourth Auror motioned to an empty seat. "My name is Kikkarus, this is Archer," he motioned towards the unfamiliar man. "He, along with your husband and the four of us went on a mission yesterday investigating an old murder case, actually, a series of murder cases."

"A serial killer?"

"Um... I don't think cereal has anything to do with-"

"Yes," interrupted the young black Auror, "We've been tracking several incidents linked to one area, and they also have another similarity." Kingsley glanced toward the small girl on the opposite side of the room.

"...No!"

"Yes..."

"My god!" Someone out there, someone so cruel, so twisted, as to kill, as to murder...children.

"That is enough!" said the witch healer, entering from the branching room. "She has no part in any of this, none of you do! Get out now, we will take care of the child, help her calm down and treat her for any lasting traumatic stress or abuse she has procured. She will become a nice, normal, socially functional girl. Now stand aside!"

The pepper headed witch stormed through them over to the other side of the room to the play area, and knelt down to take the place of the younger healer.

The child screamed out in blood curdling terror.

All the Aurors visibly flexed and quicker than possible had their wands pointed to the two women healers near the girl. Mordecai clutched her closer and away from the healers.

"Honey, please speak to us! Please calm down; she won't hurt you!" said the young red headed healer, "Healer Norlin and I want to help you."

But the child only screamed louder when Norlin's face came into sight again. The red headed healer continued to consol the child.

"Let her scream and get it out, Helena. Once she sees I am not a threat, she will open up to us."

"But Linda..." Helena awkwardly moved aside, and again Healer Linda Norlin was in full view of the girl.

She screamed her loudest yet. Before they had time to react to the blast of sound, she had let go of Mordecai's arm, had run through the adults' legs and out through the door of the adjoining room.


	4. Run

"What the hell is going on?!" said both Marcus and the wizard healer, Jenkins, as Oliver, Kingsley, Mordecai, Archer, Kikkarus, Norlin, Helena, and Nichelle ran through the door into the small room. There was another door leading back out to the hallway, thrown open wide by the girl as she ran.

"I'll explain later!" said Norlin. "Just catch her!"

The child was very fast; she was already turning the corner of the long hallway. They raced after her, passing door after door of patients, some coming out to check the disturbance, and finally the group turned to the next hallway, only to see her turning yet the next corner of the wing.

"Kingsley, circle back and intercept her. Do _not_ use magic; she's been threatened enough for a lifetime…" ordered Archer as they continued to the third corner. Kingsley did an about face and sped around back. The group could hear the girls footsteps gradually fade as they reached the final corner; they would be back at their starting point soon.

"Damn it all!" said Kikkarus as they came upon Kingsley, but no child.

"She ran into the other wards, she might be on the opposite side of the floor by now."

"How could she? Shouldn't the rooms have a single entrance to them?" questioned Nichelle.

"Most of the rooms have two entrances," murmured Helena.

"She could have passed through any combination of rooms! It'll be like searching for a rat in a labyrinth! She could be hidden anywhere! Who designed this building?!"

"Spread out! Search the entire floor and report back here. _You_," Marcus turned to Jenkins, "Get an announcement out, warn the other healers."

"Y-yes." Jenkins and Helena left towards the main office of the hospital, as the Aurors each took a different hallway. Norlin and Nichelle watched them separate. She wanted to follow her husband, but was distracted by the agitated fidgeting of Healer Norlin.

"They're going to frighten all the patients and that girl. They don't have any idea what they're doing," muttered Norlin, looking very much like a puffed up kiwi*.

_That sounds more like you,_ Nichelle thought. Still, it was strange. Why would the girl react so strongly to the healer's appearance?

Norlin started down a similarly childlike, decorated hallway after Kikkarus, muttering things like "intimidating" and "heavy handed". Nichelle followed her, who knows what would happen if she found the child. Hearing footsteps behind her, Norlin rounded on Nichelle.

"Go a different way! Actually, go home! We don't need anyone else scaring the child," Norlin puffed out.

"Oh shut it, it's not like she screamed bloody murder when she saw _me._" She could not say anything to that. Instead…

"You have no place here, not as a healer, a mother, or a witch. What do you know about _my_ patients, _my_ work?"

"I know that child's been tormented beyond typical parental abuse. I know you can't force a child to get over it and open up. I know you can't force her to get better with a snap of _your_ fingers, or a flick of any wand."

"Silence!"

The two continued to bark at each other as they approached a branching of hallways. Just how big was this floor?

"How big is the children's ward?"

"It shares the floor with Spell Damage," Norlin grumbled.

"They put a children's ward next to a psychiatric ward filled with brain damaged, possibly dangerous mental patients!?" _What were these people thinking!_

She did not get an answer as Norlin veered left down another hallway and proceeded into the rooms. Nichelle, deciding she should not waste her time on pressing her, instead went right. Up and through the rooms, Nichelle asked healer after healer if a small, disheveled girl had been seen. Many shook their heads, apologized and continued to work. Some grumbled something like "you're disturbing the patients," and shooed her out of the rooms. She checked in small closets in the rooms and in the hallways, small spaces under tables, chairs, cabinets, beds and sink cupboards. Up and down the wing she went, checking every room and every nook and every corner until she had circled around and found herself back at the original hall. Oliver and Mordecai were back from their searches and were discussing; she spied the others coming back from their respective hallways. For a moment she let herself focus on her husband, his small cuts that marred his face and hands, and wondered what had caused them.

"Nichelle…" he said, turning to her and ensnaring her in his arms. She held onto to him as close as she could, her head buried in his chest, before feeling a hand tilting her chin upwards. He kissed her; it was a kiss to convey everything would be all right, that he was okay, that so would the girl. As the others came closer, he pulled away, but held onto her hand, rubbing it with his thumb. The tension she had held onto since last night dissipated somewhat.

"Anything?"

"No sign of her."

"Where the hell could she be?"

A loud yelling came down from a distant hallway, growing louder as the person came closer. It was Archer, yelling, "She's coming your way!"

Before they could register his warning, there she was, sprinting at a speed unheard of for a small child. She ran down straight through toward a dead end hallway, it's only destination…

"The lifts!"

They sped towards her; they could see her stretched out form in the lift, reaching up and repeatedly pushing one of the buttons. Just as they had reached her, the lift closed and started moving.

"F-ck!" Marcus said, banging his fist onto the lift doors. "It was hard enough trying to find her on one floor."

Nichelle looked up above the frame of the lift doors to check which floor the lift was ascending or descending to. However, the lift did not display any lighted numbers or any dial indicating the lifts destination. She could be on any of the six floors* of the hospital.

"The stairs." Kingsley motioned toward two stairwells, one ascending and one descending. "We need someone to get to the ground floor so she doesn't leave the hospital."

"On it," said Kikkarus.

Everyone split up again, Nichelle following her husband towards the stairwell and ran down with him. It was silent, except for the stomping of feet, as they rushed down the first flight of stairs, then…

"What's going to happen to her Mordecai, can they really help her?" Nichelle couldn't help seeing those tortured eyes in her memory.

"The healers will do what they can. We, the Aurors, will have to give in our report and move on," he frowned. "She'll go through some serious mental treatment; counseling, calming solutions, shock therapy, they may even try to erase some of her memories if nothing else works. If they cure her, she'll end up in The British Adoption Center of Magical Children," they both made a face at the last part. They had adopted Roxanne at the BACMC, and were not happy about the stories their daughter had told her about the staff there.

"Will they really try to wipe her memory?"

"Probably not, especially in her case. She's so young, erasing her memory could also erase any important milestones, learning how to talk, walk, etc. The way she looks right now, she's probably been tortured her entire life. They would probably have to erase her whole personality and then she'd end up as an empty shell. Hopefully they'll only need to use therapeutic methods."

"Mordecai, what on earth _happened_ to her? What kind of a case were you following?

"The worst kind of case, the kind that stretches on for years…" He looked out distantly into the cracks of the brick stairwell. "The house was on fire…"

"_What?!"_

"But she didn't sustain any burns, it was like there was a shield around her protecting her," he hesitated when he saw Nichelle's questioning expression. "Sometimes magical children can perform protective magic in very stressful situations. This girl was something else though." He thought for a moment, "Usually a child can only form a skin tight barrier, yet she was able to keep herself and a two foot radius around her from burning. Still, she would had died from suffocation, or crushed from the house collapsing-

"I'm sure they wanted to burn all the evidence that accumulated throughout the years, including the one witness left to stand against them," Mordecai continued.

"Who exactly are 'they'?" asked Nichelle.

"The bodies haven't been identified yet. A man and a woman."

"You mean you killed them?"

"Had to," he scowled, trying to keep the bottled rage down, "Shot every hex, jinx and curse at us while the house burned behind them, and then they gave up and ran. Probably set it alight when they sensed the last barrier protecting their location was broken. We chased after them, cornered them, and they nearly killed Archer… we needed them alive to solve the case obviously, but they were too much trouble to keep alive. Extremely powerful, they were."

"More then Voldemort?" she said quietly.

"Together, maybe…" They had reached the second floor. "I'll take this floor, you go down to the first floor."

"Okay."

She watched her husband speed down the hall from the stairwell and turn the corner to the Magical Bugs and Diseases ward. She ran down the next flight of stairs to the first floor and ran passed the lifts to the Creature-Induced Injuries ward. She did a repeat of the search she had done upstairs, now passing through rooms with bed-ridden witches and wizards suffering from various bites, burns and claw wounds. Again she searched every nook, cranny and any small space the girl could fit herself into. She gradually worked her way around the right side of the ward and circled back, now searching the left. It was after leaving the room of a young gentleman with many vicious cucco pecks that she came to yet another branching hallway. Intent on following straight through, she stopped at the sight of the slightest disturbance.

The hallway split straight and right, with one last door on the right side of the hall before the corner. Across the door was a cart with what looked to be either drink or potion related liquids in glass phials. The cart was not up against the wall; rather it was slightly skewed as though someone had knocked into it. Furthermore, two of the phials had fallen and shattered on the floor, spilling their contents. No one had yet to clean the mess. Nichelle looked closely at the spill. Someone had tracked through it, tiny watery prints leading around the corner.

She followed them quietly around the corner into an unused, darkened hallway. It was short and only had two doors, the last being slightly ajar. She walked slowly, careful not to scoff the floor or squeak on the tile. Without a creak, she pushed the door open.

The room was gray in the minimal light from the hall. The two beds were unused and bare, only the mattresses present. The bedside table and counters were clear of all patient-made debris. The curtains that separated the beds were scrunched out of the way to make the beds visible. It was there, in the back right corner of the room, where one of the curtains shook slightly.

Nichelle tiptoed towards the curtain and stood in front of the small bulge in the curtain on the floor. She inhaled quietly, and then exhaled gently, loud enough for the curtain to stop shaking. She reached out a hand and slowly pulled back the curtain. The girl sat there, her knees to her chest, head down, frozen in fright at the person on the other side of the thin sheet of cloth. Nichelle crouched down staring at the small child, not touching her and not moving, waiting for her to make the first move.

For a long time the two stayed there, the small girl with her head down and Nichelle crouched waiting for her. Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes, the girl looked up into Nichelle's eyes and Nichelle saw her own tired face reflected in the deep turquoise of the girl's. They continued to stare at each other until the girl so hesitantly reached out her hand to Nichelle. She still did not move, just watched the girl slide closer and closer to her, and then nudge herself into her arms. She grabbed onto Nichelle's shirt and buried her head into Nichelle's chest and began to cry. Gently she hugged the child and rubbed her back, mumbling a forgotten lullaby she knew. She had gotten the girl to come to her; this was good, this was a very good sign. She rocked herself and the child and placed her head on top of the girl's. In the back of her mind she heard faint footsteps, but she couldn't concentrate on them with the sobbing child in her arms. Back and forth, back and forth, she continued to hum the song for the child.

_Doo Da Doo, Dada Doo Da Doo,_

_Doo Da Doo, Da Doo Dada Doo,_

_Doo Da Doo, Dada Doo Da Doo,_

_Doo Da Doo, Da Dooooooooooo,_

_Dooooo dada dada dooooo_

_Dooooo dada dada dooooo_

_Dooooo dada dada dooooo_

_Da doooooooooooooooooo*_

The child's tears began to run dry and the crying turned into small snuffles. Nichelle kept humming but was now becoming more aware of the noises outside of the room. Every few seconds she would hear a faint click, clack, click, clack…

_Heels _she thought, _heels of a witch healer. Maybe a nurse, but this wing was pretty quiet before. Could be to come clean the broken phials, but I don't hear any sweeping. Oh, right, probably just used magic._

But she heard no "Reparo" or any other spell, or the slight shimmering sound that most spells made when cast. She could only hear the heels coming closer and closer. Nichelle, still clutching the girl, slid slowly back into the corner until she could move no further and silently pulled the curtain over herself and the child. She stopped humming and listened; the girl followed suit and stopped sniffling.

_Click…clack…click…click clack click clack… click…creak._

_ Damn it _she thought, _I didn't close the door._

Someone was sticking his or her head through the door, quietly walking into the room. Nichelle and the girl dared not breathe, as they saw the outline of the person on the curtain get closer as they moved about the room. She could hear the mattresses squeak from being leaned on, the small shuffling of feet, the creak or two from an old closet door. Every now and then the person was a hairbreadths away from their hiding place. Finally the person seemed satisfied with his or her search, and left the room. Nichelle sighed and loosened her hold on the child. She had a sickening feeling that she had knew who had just searched the room and was glad that person had left.

She couldn't stay here, she needed to get the two of them back to the Aurors and, she mentally cringed, the healers. Hopefully there were people more competent on the staff then the three she had seen today. She stretched her arms and instantly regretted the action, she had knocked over a box of tissues and it made a series of small thumps as is tumbled to the floor. And then she heard the throaty voice of an older woman and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Homenum Revelio!"

Nichelle only had a moment to register the shivering feeling of something swooping over them before Norlin burst into the room and pulled back the curtain to their hiding place. The girl knew what was coming as soon as she saw the tissue box tumble; before Norlin got her arms around her, she ran through her legs and fled out the open door. Both women ran out and began again to chase the girl, but this time Norlin had other ideas. She slipped out her wand from a pocket in her lime robes, and pointed it at the child feet ahead of them.

"Impedimen-"

"Are you _kidding_ me?!" screeched Nichelle, knocking the witches arm from its target. The spell shot off as a jet of blue light, sailing above the girl's head and blasting a tiny hole in the brick wall in front of them. Upon seeing this, the girl skidded to a halt and darted down a side hallway out of range for another spell.

"What is _wrong_ with you? You're attacking a traumatized child; she doesn't need anymore pain or injuries!"

"The Impediment Jinx only slows down and stops a moving target, it wouldn't hurt the child," huffed Norlin.

"How dense are you? You call yourself a healer not knowing that jinx can knock back people too?"

"I would never use that much power to knock down a child!"

"_It doesn't take much to knock down a child!"_

Norlin, in a fit of frustration and rage, crashed into Nichelle, speeding after the child as she hit the floor. Nichelle clutched her bashed knee as she looked up to see Norlin rounding the corner.

"Bitch!" she called after her. Wincing, she got up and pressed on, trying not to focus on the pain shooting up from her kneecap. She rounded the corner as well, and came upon an incredibly disturbing scene.

There was the small blonde child, backed into a corner of the dead end hall, looking extremely similar to a terrified mouse. She was on her bottom, pushing with her legs to back herself further into the wall, her small hands scraping at the walls beside her, causing the small cuts on her hand to reopen.

And there was Norlin, casting a shadow over the girl from the dim candles overhead. Her long, greasy, peppered hair was hanging in sweaty locks about her shadowed face. Her lime green robes seemed to have taken on a darker, more sinister color in the poor lighting and her wrinkled hand outstretched toward the girl was curled into something like a claw. She stepped ever closer to the terrified girl, beckoning to come to her with her rasping voice.

She reached out to touch the girl, and just like in the playroom, she screamed at the top of her lungs. The child slapped the hand away and pushed herself off the wall, running into the only security the child had ever felt in her entire life.

She grasped onto Nichelle's shirt and cried out in terror and spoke in a gasping, almost hissing voice that had never been used. She looked up at Nichelle with watering turquoise eyes.

"D-don't l-l-leave m-me. P-pleassse don't leave m-me. Don't leave me. D-don't leave m-me. Pleassse, pleassse don't l-leave. Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave," over and over, a hundred times over, murmuring "pleassse d-don't leave m-me."

Nichelle held the trembling girl as tightly as she could. What could she say, what could she do to make the tears stop falling?

"I won't leave you. I'll never leave you."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx **

**Kiwi: a green fruit and a flightless bird (not green). When I realized I put this here I laughed at myself. The word works either way.**

**St. Mongo's has six floors, yet never in the books does it describe a children's ward. Where do the witches give birth? So I put it on the fourth floor.**

**If you can guess what song this is I'll give you a thousand points to which ever house of your choice. Hint: its from a game. If you give up, here a link to it below www. you tube watch ?v=_qPtuOfQbyI (take out the spaces)**


	5. Seven Years Later

"I can't believe you're leaving already," said Emmelia as she helped her friend pack for what would be their first school year apart. The two girls sat on the Triforce bedspread in Emmelia's friend's room. The room was in the process of cleaning and emptying; clothes from the closet were emptied into the old trunk that had been her friend's sister's trunk when she had gone away to Hogwarts. Beside the jeans, rock t-shirts and witch robes were a pile of hard cover spell books, the top of them displaying _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger. Also inside the trunk was a collapsible telescope, a pewter cauldron (size two), a double bagged apothecary kit giving off an awful smell, a set of glass phials and, in a long rectangular box, a 10 ½ long Kaya wand, dragon heartstring core, sturdy.

The pale blue carpet was clear of crumbs, the lamp and oak desk dusted, the photos on the wall straightened and shined, the bed made. The room gave off the lonely vibe of a soon to be vacant room. The girl beside Emmelia was looking at a small piece of parchment, her school list, checking items off as she went down.

"I know." The girl turned to look at Emmelia. It would be hard for her; she, Emmelia and Linus had been _the trio_, the one of the better things that had come to her life. She couldn't accept the fact that tomorrow morning she would not wakeup in her Triforce bed with her Navi plushy next to her. The first thing she would not see was the entirety of Kokiri village magically painted on her bedroom walls, the oak desk in the corner with her Zelda stationary and multicolor pens. She would not be able to take any of her books, comics or manga as nothing else would fit in the trunk. She could ask her father to put an internal expansion charm on it, but her mother rather she focus on her work until she at least got use to being away at Hogwarts. She definitely couldn't take her laptop, Play Station, Wii, Xbox, DS, PSP, iTouch or her Droid; they would be useless with all the magical interference in the air. She would not be able to eat breakfast with her mother in the morning. She could not step out the door to meet the dark skinned, white haired Emmelia next door, nor walk down the block to tag up with pale skinned, brown haired Linus and head down to school. She could not come back to a loving mother, a cool father or a homemade meal. All that would have to wait until she visited on the holidays.

The girl dug through her trunk for a moment before she produced a hairbrush and started to comb her hair. It was a habit she had picked up from her older sister; trying to comb the mess of thoughts out of her head. She glanced at the clock as she did so. 9:52. She would have to be on the road soon...

The girl continued to stare at the clock while Emmelia glanced around the empty room. Several minutes passed and then a short, brown haired, bespectacled boy entered the room. Draped over his shoulder was a red fox, its eyes trained on its human companion across the room. The boy stood in the doorway, unnoticed, watching the two girls. Then he slammed the door with a loud BANG. The girls jumped and turned to glare at him. The boy laughed.

"You two are so damn depressed it's spread throughout the house," Linus joked as he sauntered over to the bed. He sat between them and the fox jumped off and curled up on the bed. He threw his arms around the girls' shoulders. "You are leaving for only a little while and on the holidays we'll see you. You get to go to Hogwarts! Come on be happy! You can show us all the cool stuff you can do when you come back."

"No she can't," mumbled Emmelia. "She's underage."

"Like that'll stop her." He smiled toward the girl, and she smiled as well.

"I'm going to miss the two of you so much," she smiled sadly.

"Forget about us! Just enjoy yourself, work hard, and then you can come back and teach us magic and we'll teach you physics and calculus and stuff."

"I already know calculus."

"Oh yeah..."

They sat quietly for a long time until a slender brunette woman came to the door.

"We're leaving now," said Nichelle softly to her daughter and her friends. Come on, you two are coming too."

"Yes!" cheered Linus as he jumped off the bed. "We get to see platform 9 and ¾!"

The fox jumped onto the girl's shoulder as the girl grabbed her trunk and the four left the room and walked the small hallway, down the wooden stairs to the front door. Outside a grey car was waiting, engine running, the boot of the car open. In the driver's seat was her father, quill and parchment in hand, writing what looked to be a very rushed report. His dark blue eyes looked up from the parchment to his daughter, and he gave her a soft smile. Coming out of the passenger seat was her older sister; her long curls bouncing as she walked toward the girl.

"Ready for this, sible?" she said, ruffling her hair and taking the trunk from her.

"Not in the slightest."

"Come on! I expected more from you. What ever happened to Miss attitude?" Roxanne said from behind the car, closing the boot on her luggage.

"Hn..." she shrugged.

"Well, at least you respond in the same way," Roxanne sighed.

"Come on you lot, we'll be late, you can all talk in the car." Mordecai grunted.

They all piled in, the adults up front, Roxanne in the middle with Linus and the girls in the back. Mordecai pulled out and headed toward the highway. Nichelle fiddled with the stereo while Roxanne consoled her troubled sister.

"Don't worry about these two," she began, "you'll make better friends."

"Hey!" exclaimed both Linus and Emmelia.

"I kid, I kid! It'll be alright... so long as you don't end up in the wrong house..."

"Red, blue, yellow, green. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin. All have their positives as well as their negatives, and all are viewed by each other in different ways." Mordecai said. "Sadly, the system of splitting the students seems to cause more harm than good, at least in my generation. You may find yourself in a stressful situation that has spanned for centuries because of house rivalry. It goes deeper than race, religion or class, and it all started with the four founders."

"They've all rivals with each other at the basic level," Roxy explained, " 'cause they all fight for the most points to get the house cup. Gryffindor and Slytherin are hard-core rivals. Actually, they just hate each other for no reason except that the founders went at it. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are much friendlier, but they can still get feisty.

"I thought Slytherin and Gryffindor hated each other because Slytherin was pro-pure blood and Gryffindor was pro-muggleborn," said Emmelia.

"No one is entirely sure what it was that caused the fight and eventual leaving of Slytherin, but many magical historians believe that to be the central conflict," explained Mordecai.

"It's strange though," pondered Nichelle, "that Slytherin started all the pure blood superiority propaganda near the time of his departure."

"It probably escalated to such a height at that point; he was probably raised to be pro pure-blood from a young age."

"Is it true what they say about all the houses though? The personality test and all?" asked Linus. The trio had known for a while that the students were separated into houses based on certain personality traits, but both Mr. and Ms. DeVera had refused to tell them how, saying it would be better as a surprise.

"Of course not," Roxy said. "There are plenty of people who don't seem to be placed in the right house. There are a few idiot Ravenclaws, loads of lazy Slytherins, some cowardly Gryffindors and one or two traitor Hufflepuffs."

"Children grow and change; those that may have been very kind as children could be bitter as adults, and vice versa. Sometimes children are conditioned too, many are impressionable and become like the house as time goes on," Nichelle said. "I don't agree with it. I'm willing to bet that half the students that end up in Slytherin weren't bad from the start but were eventually sucked into the superior ideology because of peer pressure."

"Does that mean I'll end up as a pureblood skinhead if I'm in Slytherin," her daughter asked. She wasn't really concerned; there hadn't been anything or anyone in her life yet that had been able to convince her to abandon her beliefs.

"No!" Nichelle exclaimed, "Of course not! I'm just saying some kids are very influenced by those around them. Dear, you're much too stubborn to be suede by such nonsense."

"Yes, just like someone else we know," Mordecai turned toward his wife, smirking. "Oh yes, much too stubborn."

The adolescents laughed when Nichelle swatted him on the arm as they made the turn onto the highway.

After abandoning the radio, which only seemed to be playing pop that day, Nichelle opted instead for a CD from the case in the glove compartment. The troop spent their time singing along to the album Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.

_"Welcome my son_

_Welcome to the machine_

_Where have you been?_

_It's alright we know where you've been..."_

"This song doesn't bode well for me," said the girl, "It sounds like I'm being taken to some machine grinder or something."

"Just don't get sucked into the whole house rivalry thing. As long as you work hard for yourself and not to please the rest of the house, you won't come out as some kind of drone."

"I remember one time at the Ministry," began Nichelle, "this was before either of you were born, I went to visit your father with a surprise. I ended up striking up a conversation with one of the faculty who automatically assumed I was in her house, Hufflepuff, because I was getting along with her so well. I didn't tell her I was a muggle, instead I said I was a Slytherin."

"No you didn't," smiled Roxy.

"Yes, and she gave me the strangest look and started to edge away slightly. She said I didn't act at all like a Slytherin, calling them nasty names. I told her that I was not a product of my house, the house was a product of the students but she just sort of ignored me. We had been talking near the entrance and walking toward the security guard. She held out her wand to be inspected and then questioned why I didn't pull out mine. The guard, Jim Greggs, who I knew from previous visits, told her I was a muggle. She was flabbergasted."

"Hah! That's great!" exclaimed Linus.

"It seems a bit easy to be mistaken for a wizard," said Emmelia.

"We are all human," said the girl.

The car began to slow as they came toward the exit to King's Cross Station.

"A few more minutes and then we'll need to hurry. They'll be quite a few people getting on last minute," said Mordecai. Roxanne turned in her seat to look at her sister, holding on to the headrest as they turned into the parking lot.

"Forget what I said about the 'right house' earlier. You'll be fine in which ever house it puts you in."

"_It_?" said Linus, Emmelia and the girl.

"Whoops, almost gave it away. You'll just have to find out when you get there," she glanced at Linus and Emmelia, "and when she sends you guys a letter."

"You suck."

"Yep," she said, popping the p.

"Alright, let's go you lot," Nichelle said.

Linus and Emmelia rounded the car and took the trunk from the boot. Both with one hand on the trunk, they rushed ahead of the group towards the entrance of King's Cross Station. They deposited the trunk on a cart and wheeled it towards the entrance where the four-member family had just come through. Emmelia jumped from the back of the cart and pulled the girl to sit on the cart with her as Linus and Roxanne pushed. They rushed down the station, all the while hearing guards yell at them as they passed. As platform 9 came into sight, Linus and Roxanne dug their heels into the floor to screech to a stop. Towering over them was the wall separating platforms 9 and 10.

"Somehow I thought this would be slightly more impressive," remarked Linus.

"It is just a wall," shrugged Roxanne.

"If the wall is half way between platforms 9 and 10, why is it called 9 and ¾?" asked Emmelia.

"Because with all the magic that wizards do, they don't have enough creativity left over for naming things," said Mordecai as he and his wife approached them at a leisurely pace.

"Alright, let's get on through. Ready? One, two…"

On "three", Nichelle had her daughter and friends ease through the wall, Roxanne and Mordecai following shortly after. Immediately the troop clumped together; they didn't want to get separated in the sea of luggage, pets and students. All around them owls hooted in cages and cats wound themselves around people's feet. The occasional croak of an amphibian sounded as the group neared the large scarlet train. As loud as the chattering crowd and animals were, the warning whistle on the train left their ears ringing. There was no time for long good byes.

"I guess there's no time for a long good bye…"

"Thanks captain obvious," the girl rolled her eyes at Linus.

"There we go!" cheered Roxanne, "that's the spunk we've been missing."

"Please be safe and don't get yourself kicked out the first day," said Mordecai, hugging his daughter.

"No promises."

"We love you so much…" Nichelle held her daughter tightly and kissed her forehead. She could feel small drops falling on her head. She gave her sister a look over her mother's shoulder, a look that asked "_did she do this too you the first time?"_ to which Roxanne nodded.

"I love you too, mum."

After releasing her daughter, she helped her lug the trunk up the few steps on to the train. She was one of the very last to get on and the train lurched to a start as she turned to her family and friends.

"You better write to us every day!" yelled Emmelia and Linus as they walked with the train.

"And you too," she shouted back. The train picked up speed and the two could not keep up. Just as she was out of sight, they yelled out "good bye" and watch the scarlet train disappear from the platform and into the distance. The two walked back towards the DeVeras, and began to slowly file off the platform.

"You know, it really is kinda easy to blend into the crowd here," said Emmelia.

"Yeah…" mumbled Linus.


	6. Trains and Toads

Weaving through the crowd of students as she made her way down the narrow corridor, the girl tried to find an empty compartment on the train. She didn't really expect too; she had been one of the last ones on, but maybe if she moved fast enough she could get one. She kept walking, lugging her trunk behind her while trying not to whack anyone or step on his or her feet. Half way down the train, she finally spotted an empty compartment, amazingly enough, and entered before anyone else got the chance. It seemed the people around her were much older, fifth or sixth years, and were content to talking outside of the compartments.

She unburdened herself, lifting the trunk into the luggage rack above the seats and taking off the parka she had thrown on last minute in the car. As she took off the parka a pure black cat fell out onto the seat next to her, curling up to take a nap. The cat was actually her fox, Akane*, transformed so as to come with her to Hogwarts. Despite the rule of students being allowed one pet of a cat, owl, or toad, many students came to Hogwarts with a variety of creatures. Foxes however were forbidden as in the past they had attacked other pets and the grounds keeper's chickens. But Akane was no ordinary fox; she was a kitsune*, a fox demon, able to transform into any creature and object imaginable. She was young, only over a thousand years old, but very well behaved. Her father had also sent a note ahead and received one back from Dumbledore, explaining she could bring the fox so long as it was disguised and kept out of trouble.

Along with her trunk she had been carrying a small book bag with a few objects to keep her entertained. She had moved her wand to this bag, and had packed a random book, the first three volumes of Fruits Basket, a few sandwiches, a water bottle and a small, pouch-like, rupee studded wallet containing about thirty pounds worth of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. The rest of her money was stored away in her trunk.

The girl stretch out on the cushions taking up about three of the five seats on that side of the compartment. Akane moved to lie on the girl's stomach as she picked up the book and began reading. It was a small paper back that her mother had bought her when she was fairly young, _Mr. Popper's Penguins_, and she was surprised she had picked this up in her rush to pack. The book really was short (it seemed so long when she was six) and she was already half way through it when the compartment door slid open with a crash. She was use to shocking noises, and did not look up from her book when three boys came into the compartment.

They were quite an odd assortment of children. Two of them had the rough physique of teenage gorillas, one of which had pudding bowl hair while the other had something of a buzz cut. Both of them towered over the smaller blonde boy in the middle, though you could tell it was this one who was the leader of the trio. He stood straight-backed and confident, and looked quite menacing with his smug smile and his bodyguard-like friends.

"Come on Crabbe, Goyle, we gotta get back to Montague's story. This Snape guy seems like he'll let us get away with anything!" smirked the small blonde. The other two grunted in agreement, and as quick as they came, they left, simply dumping their stuff on the seats on the opposite side of the compartment. It seemed they didn't even notice her. A few seconds later, she heard the distant opening and slamming of another compartment door and then a howl of laughter. The girl and Akane exchanged looks of bemusement, and then settled back down to their pastimes.

It was a small time after this that she started to reach for her sandwiches, but was interrupted by the sound of a rolling cart and the opening of doors outside her own. She took a bite of her chicken sandwich and glanced out the door window to see a kindly silver haired witch pushing a cart filled with sweets. The girl took out a peach from her bag and gave it to Akane, and then searched her bag for the money pouch. She had only packed two sandwiches, one she had seen Akane take while they were in the car, and the one she was eating now. A few sweets before dinner wouldn't hurt.

She took out the rupee-studded pouch and sighed as she spied the coins inside. She had never gotten use to the currency wizards used; if they were so much better than muggles, why couldn't they make a money system based on ones, fives and tens? So much for simplicity. She got up and opened her door to find the witch attending to a group of girls in the compartment opposite hers.

She looked through the assortment of candies, pastries and sweets, and barely recognized anything on the cart. What she did recognize was the bags of Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, which she had been warned about by her sister to eat carefully. Gum was gum, no matter if Drooble's was best, Chocolate Frogs she had taken quite a liking to. There were also Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands (which her sister said were stupid imitations of Red Vine), and a number of other strange things that she could only guess at. She bought the pasties and cakes, and what looked to be a bag of dehydrated pieces of meat for Akane to chew on for seven sickles and three knuts.

Before she could close the door however, a pudgy hand stopped the door and a round pale face appeared. It was a short boy, probably in her year, with a mess of brown hair in the way of his teary face.

"Um, hello. Y-you wouldn't have happened to s-see a toad around would you?"

The only toad she had seen recently was a purple one with orange spots in a cage back on the platform. She told him so, and he sniffled a little in disappointment.

"I just can't keep him still! It seems he really doesn't like being with me at all."

"Don't worry about that," she consoled him, "your toad probably just wants to be out and about. When we get to Hogwarts I'm sure they'll be a nice little place where the toads and frogs hang around that he'll like. Then he won't run away as much. Toads weren't really meant for trains y'know."

"Thanks," he sniffled again but smiled a bit. "My names Neville, Neville Longbottom."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Neville; I'll keep an eye out for your toad, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks again."

"No sweat."

Neville left, looking slightly better than he came, but still very gloomy. Hopefully he would find his toad soon before they all disembarked from the train. She thought this would be the last time she saw Neville before they started classes, but she saw him yet again, about fifteen minutes later, this time with a girl in tow.

She was dressed in her black school robes, with long bushy brown hair and large front teeth. When she spoke her voice came out with a tang of bossiness.

"Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost his on the train."

"Can't say I have. You might want to look further along rather than research this section though, or split up." She didn't mean for it to sound condescending, but it seemed the bushy hair girl took it that way. She huffed and left down the corridor. Neville waved to her meekly and ran after the bushy haired girl.

The majority of the trip was uneventful; there weren't any other sudden intrusions into the compartment. The girl spent her time finishing her book, eating her sweets and petting Akane. When she was done with the book, she tucked it way and was content to lie quietly with Akane, staring out the compartment window. Most of the time the window displayed the sunny gray sky that was common in England. Sometimes the sun was stunningly bright, others it was hidden away by large marshmallow clouds. At some point they had passed in and out of a small rainstorm. The landscape was ever changing; sometimes she could see rolling hills and large crop fields, other times she saw small villages, forests and lakes. In the distance, she spotted one or two buildings, marking the border of a more modern town.

It was a few hours later, when the sky was quickly darkening, that the trio of boys entered the compartment again. The girl had finished her sweets and was now reading the second volume of Fruits Basket while Akane was chewing on the last piece of her treats, when the boys came in and started riffling through their stuff. Finally they produced three wands of varying length and color and preceded to depart, all the while the blonde boy was muttering, "He's on the train" and something about an otter.

Ignoring what she knew would not be the last intrusion; she thought it best to change into her school robes. She pulled down the small blinds on the door windows, lifted her trunk from the rack and pulled out her robes and hat. She put them on over her shirt and jeans and looked at her reflection in the darkened window. She didn't dislike the uniform, but she wasn't a fan of uniforms in general. Her old school had allowed her to dress in whatever way she wished, with moderation of course. But this outfit practically screamed 'medieval witch'. She'd rather be wearing something a bit more modern gothic.

She suddenly had a flash back to the middle of the summer, in which she, her mother and Emmelia had gone to a large party store. It was very popular, as it had a large assortment of costumes, props and accessories year round. They had gone through row after row of witch garb and gothic wear, picked from a very modest, black, Victorian dress to a very scary, scanty (and immediately ditched) modern one piece and had finally decided on a basic outfit. It started out with a beret with a large cartoony skull on the side, a shawl, a long sleeved blouse that went passed her hips, stripped stockings and calf high boots.

They picked a variety of colors for each article of clothing, purchased some warmer sweaters, leggings and pants for the cooler months, and picked out a few new earrings as well. It was only when they got home and put the clothing away in her closet that Mordecai had announced that the school letter and list had come, complete with dress code. Nichelle had been outraged at spending the time and money finding clothing only to be told that her daughter could not wear it. Mordecai reassured her, saying that she could probably wear the outfits on the weekends and holidays when classes were not in session.

She was brought out of her daze by a sudden jolt in the train as it began to slow down. Some of the boys' luggage had fallen off the seats and slid to her side of the compartment. She picked up the trunks and placed them on the racks where they belonged and proceeded to stuff her small bag into her own trunk. She kept her wand and tucked it into her robe pocket and then sat down to wait for the train to finally arrive at her school. When a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately," Akane trotted from her place on the floor and slipped under her robes, up the girl's shirt and transformed into a copper locket.

The train slowed even more and then with a loud screech, stopped. Students filled the corridor, all budging towards the doors to the dark platform. It was much colder here than back home and when she shivered, Akane changed from the cool locket to a warm silver scarf. Most of the shorter students, probably all first years, stood shivering and quite puzzled as what to do next, while the older students walked off a bit down the platform. Then the bobbing light of a lamp shone overhead and a loud voice called over them.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" and then more quietly "All right there, Harry?"

From the lamplight she could see a large man, the largest she had ever seen in her life. He was at least ten feet tall, probably more, and he looked strong enough to lift one of the train cars. His long shaggy black hair met up with his long shaggy black beard, his hands and feet were twice the size of her face, and he wore a particularly furry moleskin coat. Despite the abundant facial hair, you could see his black beetle eyes and smile beaming down on them all.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

The large man led the trembling first years down a slippery slope bordered by large, thick trees. Except for the stumbling footsteps and the occasional sniffle from Neville, all was quiet. The path eventually leveled out and the man called over his shoulder.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" as the path opened to a large black lake. Mirrored on its surface and perched upon a cliff in the distance, was a vast stone castle, its towers and turrets piercing the sky, its windows sparkling like the stars above them. A small fleet of boats awaited them on the shore of the lake.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The man called. She climbed into one of the small boats and was surprised to find the trio of boys yet again joining her. First the blonde climbed in and then the two larger ones. Their bulk and rocking of the boat worried her that they would tip it over.

"Everyone in?" shouted the man, who had a boat to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

The fleet of little boats took off all at once, propelled by the man's magic. Despite the movement of the boats the lake remained smooth as glass. She turned toward the boys beside her, but they sat looking up at the magnificent castle, and she went completely unnoticed. Everyone was silent as the boats continued their route closer and closer to the cliff.

"Heads down!" yelled the man as the boats reached the base of the cliff. The first years ducked their heads and the boats carried them through curtains of ivy that covered a wide opening in the cliff face. For a while they sailed silently through a dark tunnel, which seemed to be situated right under the castle itself. Then, one after another, the little boats docked in what looked like a rugged underground harbor. As the students stepped awkwardly from the boats, the man called out to Neville.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" he said as he checked the boats.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.

The students clambered up a passageway in the rock, following the man's lamp as their guide, finally coming out onto moon lit grass near the entrance of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

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**Hello, LB here. Fed up with not knowing the main character's name yet? Don't worry, it'll be revealed next chapter. I'm sure you recognized a few characters beside Nev right? Hopefully I portrayed them all right for now; there's not much dialogue in this chapter to get into any character depth.**

**Akane: pronounced **_**Ah-kah-neh**_

**Kitsune: pronounced **_**Kit-soo-neh**_

**By the way, foxes are omnivores, which is why Akane eats the peach and the meat.**

**Cioa!**


	7. The Sorting Hat

**Sorry, these last few chapters seem like they came right from the original series. There'll be more variation as the story goes on.**

**Disclaimer (I should have done this earlier): All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. The girl, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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Upon the large man's knocking the large oak door swung open, revealing a tall, black haired witch. She was dressed in long emerald robes to match her eyes, which were squinted as she scrutinized the children before her. Her mouth was a thin line, but it was slightly upturned in the corners. The girl immediately thought of a no-nonsense martinet.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Professor McGonagall pulled the door further and the students stepped into an enormous entrance hall. It was composed of stonewalls that seemed to reach to the heavens, with flaming torches lining them every few feet. She was willing to bet that her house could have easily fit into the space and still have room to spare. Near the back of the hall stood a large, marble, spiral staircase leading to the upper floors of the castle. To the right was a double doorway, where the hum of many students could be heard.

_So the rest of the school arrived before us,_ she thought to herself. She believed this to be where McGonagall was leading them, but instead she led them to a small dark chamber off the hall. They filed in and did an about face to look at the figure that was blocking their exit. She felt the horrible sensation of being packed into a can of sardines.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," began Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses." Professor McGonagall stood a bit straighter, as though the next few words were of the greatest importance. "The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

So she was stuck with the same people everyday for the rest of seven years? This was _so_ not going to end well.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

So this is what Roxy had meant about the school competition. Well, that didn't seem too bad. She said only rule breaking would lose points… hopefully witty banter and back sass weren't against the rules. If she wasn't allowed to be sassy with the teachers then this school would be her downfall.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on a red headed boy's smudged nose. The girl brushed back her hair with her hands and straightened Akane-scarf on her neck.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly," and she left.

And so the whispering began.

All around her the students rounded each other, nervously chatting back and forth as to what would happen to them. No one seemed to like the idea that however they were sorted, it would be in front of the entire school and staff. She recognized a sort of snooty voice behind her, and turned to see the bushy haired girl discussing with a few other students which spell she would need. In front of her, she saw two boys, a slight, black haired boy and a gangly red head talking to each other about a test of sorts. The girl edged closer to them.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" asked the black head to the red head.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Whoever this Fred was, he had to be joking. Her father and Roxy would have warned her if she had to do something dangerous. She was content to spend the remainder of their time pondering this, but was interrupted by a sudden shrill scream from behind them. She quickly turned around and then sighed, putting her hand to her forehead and shaking her head in amusement.

Twenty or so pearly white ghosts had just phased through the back wall of the chamber. While many people were wide eyed and mouthed at this disturbing intrusion, she was somewhat use to it. She had her own haunted house on her block, occupied by a dead magical historian and his living relatives. Saddened by the fact that he would only have one lifetime to procure the world's history, he came back as a ghost to continue his gathering. His home was an ever-growing library, partially underground, and was at least three times the size of the Vatican archives. He often came over to use the computer to order more books.

Two of the apparitions above them, one wearing frills and tights, another looking very much like Friar Tuck, seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-" began the friar.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghost in tights looked down on the first years, but no one answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

She and a few others nodded.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall beckoned them out from the chamber and one by one, the ghosts phased through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told them, "and follow me."

She sucked in a deep breath and got in line behind a tall black boy and in front of Neville. They all trooped from the chamber, across the entrance hall and through the double doors into the Great Hall.

If the Entrance Hall was enormous in height, the Great Hall was enormous in length. Four long tables stretched the length of this hall, where the hundreds of older students were sitting. Across the ends of the four tables was another, shorter table where the staff was seated. It was in front of the staff table that the first years were lined up to face the many students. Above them, thousands of floating candles lit the hall, their flickering making the students faces look waxy. The ceiling was pitch black, dotted with many stars. The bushy girl down the line whispered "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

The staring from the students in front of her and the teachers in back was becoming unnerving; she did not like people staring at her. However, their focus changed from the first years to Professor McGonagall, carrying with her a small four-legged stool and a brown rumpled hat. She stood the stool in front of them; the hat on the stool, and everyone in the hall began to stare at it. The hat was patched and frayed, and looked like it'd seen better days. A moment after it was placed on the stool, a long rip in the brim opened up like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The entire hall burst into applause when the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" the red head whispered to the black head. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

She let out her breath and mentally berated herself. She had worried herself over a stupid hat. Idiot. So a hat decided her fate, huh? I guess that was an interesting way to set up a wizard for success… or failure.

Professor McGonagall unfurled a long scroll that just barely reached her hips and stepped forward towards the stool. She then spoke to the first years.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A tiny, blushing girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line and put on the hat. It fell right down over her eyes, and a few seconds after sitting-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!" called McGonagall, and a girl with a long red plait came forward and put the hat on.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!" a almond haired boy sat down.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time and several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" a pale girl with wavy brown hair became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; she could see red headed twin brothers catcalling from this table.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin, and the table between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stood and cheered for her as she joined the table. The cheering almost sounded like hissing to the girl, and she rolled her eyes at them. Really, hissing? Millicent might have well have asked them if she could _slytherin._

Corner, Michael (Ravenclaw) and Crabbe, Vincent, the large, pudding bowl haired boy she had shared a compartment with (Slytherin) were the last of the C's. Daniels, Jordan and Davis, Tracey became a Hufflepuff and Slytherin respectfully. And then-

"DeVera, Vitani!"

Tani stepped forward as Neville whispered "Good luck" to her. She walked up to the stool, plucked the hat from the seat, put it on and sat. Like Hannah, the hat was too big and fell over her eyes to her nose. All she could see was darkness. Then an echoing sort of voice that sounded like it was coming from within her head began to speak.

"Hmm, you're an odd one now aren't you?"

That's just what she needed, a magical talking article of headwear to call her _odd._ That just about made her day.

"I haven't seen a head like this in quite a while. Brave, oh very courageous, yes. Witty, interesting, quite the problem solver. Sarcasm, lots of sarcasm… Ambitious, that goes along well with bravery… Huh. A bit Machiavellian aren't we? Yet extremely loyal to your friends, that's a twist. Share the spoils then? No, you have quite the rigid belief in merits. Ah, I see; deceive the deceitful, respect the respectful. No… maybe not. Strange, very strange."

_I think we've established that I'm very strange, thank you._

"Very sassy."

_Sooo sorry._

"A big heart, a cool head, a short fuse. Not exactly a matching personality. Very open minded to multiple viewpoints, so long as they don't conflict with you.

_I don't give a damn what you think, so long as it doesn't hurt or hinder me. Hate me? Fine. Insult me? Whatever. Get in my way? I hope you don't need your fingers._

"I don't have any fingers to begin with."

_Oh, and you call _me _sassy._

"Loving; you cherish your family and friends above your own needs. In a sense, your friends are an extension of your family and yourself. You miss them very much. When they're threatened, you feel threatened. You'll use any means to protect them, _any means. _I guess the ends justify the means for you?"

_Depends upon the ends. Everything is relative._

"You like to learn and you think learning should be enjoyable. If it's not, then it's either not worth the effort or the teacher is terrible. You question things often, and think other should as well. You don't like it when others around you blindly follow someone or something; it sets a bad precedent."

_Nazis, Death Eaters…_

"I dare say, you may be split equally among the houses. You seem to hold ambition, courage, wisdom and loyalty high in regards. I might need to make a new fifth house for you."

_I don't think they would like that, and you don't really have the time. You still need to sort about fifty or so other kids and we've been here for about ten minutes._

"You, Miss DeVera, are what we call a 'hat stall'. Now, you seem to lean towards Gryffindor and Slytherin, but you have a strong piece from Ravenclaw as well. You wouldn't do terribly in Hufflepuff either, though you may be a bit headstrong for it."

_I say we decide this like real men, and do "eeny, meeny, miny, moe"; or we could get out a dartboard and throw for it._

"No, no, there has to be a logical reason as to your placement. It seems like you would do exceedingly well in Slytherin, though you clash with it as well. Hmm… well, you do share the original qualities at least, not the current…"

_What do you mean by-_

But she did not get to finish that question, as the hat proclaimed loudly to the Great Hall, after what she thought to be twenty minutes-

"SLYTHERIN!"

When she pulled off the hat her ears rang slightly, partly from the loss of the echoing voice and partly from the roar coming from the Slytherin table. It seemed hat stalls garnered a bit of attention as they took so long; the other tables looked curiously at her too, as she sat down at the Slytherin table. But all attention was drawn back as Professor McGonagall called the next student to be sorted.

Now sitting at a table, the irrational fear of staring eyes had passed, and she was able to watch the rest of the sorting with ease. The next few students were sorted much quicker than she; "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" became a Hufflepuff within moments and a sandy-haired "Finnigan, Seamus" became the second Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione" was called and the girl that had been helping Neville rushed up to the stool and plopped the hat immediately on her head. A minute later, she was declared a Gryffindor. Slytherin had yet another girl join them, "Greengrass, Daphne" who sat next to Tani and gave her a nervous smile.

A few more students were sorted and then it was Neville's turn. Though she had only spent all of five minutes with the boy, Tani knew he definitely wouldn't end up in Slytherin. She watched him, in his panicked state, stumble up to the stool and sit for what seemed like five minutes. She was right; the hat declared him a Gryffindor, and he scurried off without realizing he was still wearing the hat. When the others laughed, she smiled weakly; her first friend, and he was in the, as Roxy had called it, rival house of Slytherin.

Next was "Malfoy, Draco", the blonde boy who had shared the compartment with her. He approached the hat with a swagger, and placed it on his head. The brim of the hat barely even touched him when the hat screamed "SLYTHERIN" as though it was almost in pain. The boy dropped the hat on the stool to join his two gorilla friends on the other side of the table.

Some of the older students were starting to doze off, their attention slipping from lack of food and travel lag. The cheering from each table dulled slightly as students were sorted. Nott, and Parkinson also became Slytherins; a pair of dark skinned, girl twins became a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw. And then Professor McGonagall called a name, a name that diverted all attention back to the stool with the snapping of upturned heads.

"Potter, Harry!"

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**Only real men use eeny, meeny, miny, moe…**

**Sorry to end it here, I don't like when chapters are extremely uneven and this was getting long. Don't worry; I'm updating this and the next chapter together.**


	8. Appeasement

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Monty Python belongs to Monty Python (hint-hint). Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

_Yes, people. She said Harry Potter. It's not that big of a deal._

But she was kidding herself, really. It _was_ a big deal. Here before them all was the boy that, as a baby, had defeated the Dark Lord, and had, in doing so, righted the magical world. Yet as incredible as it was, Tani knew not to hold such things in high respect for fear of disappointment. He was just a baby then and was just an eleven year old now; either way he wasn't very impressive looking. She didn't hold that against him; not many eleven year olds looked impressive in the first place.

The black haired boy stepped forward toward the stool, looking slightly nervous. No doubt the whispering made him even more self-conscious than he already was. He sat and Vitani watched the hat slip past his ruffled hair and over his almond shaped green eyes. Every eye in the hall was trained on his figure, but most of them were staring at the hat, waiting, and hoping, for it to call their own table. What she saw, however, was the tension in his fingers as he gripped the edge of the stool, and the slightest twitch of his lips. He was most likely chanting something in his head. She had practice reading lips; it was one of the tactics she, Emmelia and Linus frequently used during class when they couldn't openly communicate.

Not… something. Not…not sli…not slith… Not Slytherin! He was chanting "Not Slytherin" over and over again. This didn't really surprise her; the Potter boy probably thought the other Slytherins would throttle him if he became a part of the house. No doubt they would avenge their beloved tyrant.

Tani looked at the others at her table, yet almost all of them had a sort of greedy glint in their eyes as they watched Potter sit on the stool. She looked at the other tables and saw that same glint. They all wanted him, _bad, _like a trophy to be won_._ No one seemed to notice his lips moving, even if it was only slightly.

The few people who seemed somewhat unconcerned about Potter were the same trio that had been in her compartment. Malfoy looked interested, but also disgusted at the same time and his face was constantly switching between the two expressions. Crabbe and Goyle, trying to mimic their friend, could not keep up with Malfoy's changing expressions, and instead settled for looks of constipation.

The Great Hall did not need to wait long for the hat's announcement. After a minute or so, the hat proclaimed that Harry Potter would be spending the rest of his days as a Gryffindor, and all but the Slytherin table erupted. Despite that he did not get into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, they cheered for him anyway. The Gryffindors were completely and utterly ecstatic, and the same catcalling twins from earlier chanted, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" The Slytherins were completely and utterly disappointed, but Malfoy whispered to them all, as McGonagall attempted to call the next student, "I knew he wouldn't get into here. Potter's all buddy-buddy with the Weasley trash."

The reaction was quick; every face at the table became a contempt scowl. Vitani tried to think back to when she had heard the name 'Weasley'. Was it something her father mentioned? Maybe a Ministry employee? She couldn't remember.

Two of the remaining three students joined Potter at the Gryffindor table and the last, "Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall then rolled up her scroll, picked up the Sorting Hat and stool and took them away. The hall started up in conversation, all the older students introducing themselves to the new additions. Malfoy instantly struck up a conversation to a large, burly third year by the name of Montague, and all the girls started talking to an older girl, probably a prefect, as she had a silver 'P' badge on the front of her robes. Then the room became quiet as a tall man from the center of the staff table stood.

She recognized him instantly from a Chocolate Frog Card Roxy had shown her long ago. He was very tall, very slender, and very old. His long silver hair ran into his long silver beard, which ended just above his waist. He was beaming at them all, his arms open wide, his sparkling, bespectacled, ice eyes looking down his long crooked nose to all the tables in turn. His name was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts, and the living reincarnation of Gandalf the White.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down to a chorus of cheers, laughter and clapping. Even the Slytherins joined in.

"That guy's nuts," said Parkinson.

"I know, isn't it wonderful?" she said back. Pansy gave her a questioning look, but was then distracted by the piles of food appearing on the golden plates in front of them. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs were spread out all along the table for the students to devour. Tani immediately lunged for the roast chicken and piled on tons of white meat, peas, carrots and potatoes and drowned it all in gravy. Before she took a bite into her chicken, Akane, still a scarf, gave a very small whimper. Tani made to 'accidently' slip the chicken into her scarf, where the folds sucked it in. She continued to eat and every so often would repeat the process. This all went unnoticed by the Slytherins, too interested in their own food.

Eventually, the rush to stuff themselves calmed and conversation was struck up again. This time, however, the conversations had the feel of inquisitions, as the older students took to interrogating the first years about their families. They started with Malfoy and went around the table. Malfoy, who had been looking very uncomfortable sitting next to the ghost who had introduced himself as the Bloody Baron, took up the spotlight with relish.

"Oh, my family's gone way back; the Malfoy's have always supported our fellow wizards in these hard times. Pure all the way, we say. It troubles my mother every day, y'know, because she doesn't want her poor son to be mixed up with that garbage," he motioned toward the Gryffindor table, "and all their fanatical mudblood spewing."

The table nodded their heads in sympathy, but Vitani shivered and clenched her fists beneath her robes. She absolutely _loathed_ that word; it brought back… too painful memories. In the back of her mind, she heard the hoarse voice of a woman, and had to swallow down the bile that was gathering in her throat. She suddenly felt very cold. She thought this were just her emotions acting up, but it may have been due to the Baron now sitting next to her.

"My mother was more worried about me actually ending up in one of the other houses, can you believe that?" began Pansy. "Thought I might end up in Hufflepuff or something. I'd rather die! I told her that too, told her she didn't believe in her own daughter, didn't have any faith! She turned right around then, kept going on and on how I was right, and I was. Parents… sheesh."

Some laughed at this, others nodded their heads in understanding. Tani didn't really understand what the big deal was. What was wrong with Hufflepuff?

"What about you two?" asked Montague to Crabbe and Goyle, who were on either side of Malfoy.

"Of course they'd be here. Our fathers are all friends with each other, all under," he gave a smirk and winked, "_his_ guidance. Purebloods from now to the beginning of man."

The other two grunted, and the older students moved on to Zabini.

"New around these parts, my family. But we've always been supporters for the cause. Moved up here so I could get the education _he_ got. My parents didn't need to worry about me being in the other houses, I was guaranteed admittance at birth."

Everyone smirked along with Blaise except for Pansy, who pouted.

While they had all been talking the remains of the food had faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

"My family's been going here for generations," began Daphne, who shoveled strawberry ice cream onto her plate, "always Slytherins; there's a list back home that dates back all the way to the 1300s! I think there were a few Ravenclaws here or there, but they always knew whom their real allegiance was to. Sometimes you can't avoid these things; we can't all be in the great Salazar Slytherin's house."

_Oh, give me a break already! Why don't you just marry the dead guy and his oh-so-wonderful Hitler spawn. I'm sure Sally and Moldy would greatly appreciate some women in their lives, even if they are little girls. _She couldn't take this, only thirty minutes in the house and she was already nauseated. It was like some horrid writer wrote this sh**.

"What about you Miss Hat Stall?" said the girl prefect from five seats down in a snarky tone.

"Yeah, why'd it take so long for you to be sorted anyway?" "If it's a question about whether you belong here or not…" "Every Slytherin should be immediately placed." "Yeah!" "Yeah!" "What's with you anyway?" "What's your family like?" "I've never heard the name DeVera before, have you?" "Sounds foreign, like we need _that_ kind in our house-" "What's your blood status?" "Are you gonna answer or what?"

She could barely make out the questions in the barrage of words shot at her.

_I'm just an eleven year old in a new school! I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition!_

_NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!_

She could almost see and hear Emmelia and Linus screaming that as they jumped out from behind the door in matching red uniforms, crosses dangling from their necks. Oh how she wished she were home!

What did these people deserve to hear, the truth or blatant, disgusting lies?

"I think that hat has seen better days, really," she said in an off hand tone, "quite as mad as the hatter sitting center stage," she gestured toward Dumbledore, and the Slytherins cackled. "You want to know why it took so long? It couldn't get over how many alumni have walked out of this house that are related to me. It started getting all-reminiscent about the head of my great-great-whatever grandmother and her _pure_ ability he recognized on the spot. It was practically gushing over my great-great-great uncle, Vlaadin Selwyn; he received honors to the school, you know, when there was actually a functioning headmaster here. On and _on_ it went, listing every name I've heard a hundred times over back home… I don't think it realized I was still there _wearing _it, listening to it ramble. Finally I had to tell it to get on with, and it said to me, 'Oh, of course you're in Slytherin! Why bother asking?' So then it finally announced that to the Great Hall, and I could get away from that thing."

By now the table was in an uproar. Boys were pounding on the wood as they laughed, making the plates of food jump and spill over. The girls were trying to smother their giggles with their hands, but to no avail. Pansy was almost shrieking, and nearly fell on the floor in hysterics. Some of them were wheezing and wiping at their eyes from the tears. Vitani looked around the table, smirking. But it was for an entirely different reason than from what they thought.

_You are all morons. You are all so idiotic and gullible it makes me want to cry, it makes me almost pity you. Almost. And then I think of all the horrid things you wish you could do, what your mothers and fathers did, how you all support _him, _how you praise _him_ like some kind of god of destruction…_

There was only one bit of that story that was true. The hat was mad. Why the hell did it put her in Slytherin? It sung it's song all about 'ambition' and didn't ever once mention any sort of prejudice qualities. She felt completely and utterly isolated here in this setting, cold from the chilling personalities surrounding her and the ghost sitting next to her. And she never got to finish her question; what did the hat mean by "original qualities?"

She turned away from the still cackling Slytherins and looked at the other tables. The staff seemed to be having a fine time, catching up with each other and drinking their fill. The Hufflepuffs looked like all smiles, the Ravenclaws also seemed to questioning each other, but in a much more friendlier way. She turned toward the Gryffindor table, and spotted Neville talking to Potter, Weasley, and a few others. They seemed to be laughing at what he had just said, and Neville had a huge smile on his face, liked he'd never been so happy in his life.

Just then the desserts were cleared away and Dumbledore stood again. The hall grew quiet again, though some of the Slytherins were still laughing quietly.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the red headed twins at the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for his or her house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

One or two people laughed at this, but most stayed silent.

"What's up with that?" said Nott to the boy prefect.

"Dunno… but I'd take it seriously. He may be a quack, but Dumbledore doesn't play around with serious stuff like death."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Vitani noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the red headed twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

"Alright midgets, let's go!" said the girl prefect as she stood from the table. Most of the older students got up and started ahead of them while the first years and prefects gathered.

"I'm Gemma Farley," said the girl prefect, "and this is Gary Korn," she gestured toward the boy prefect. "We're here to guide you for the first few weeks of your stay at Hogwarts. You can ask us anything about the classes, the teachers, the other houses, whatever you want. Your first lesson will be to find the Slytherin dormitory, so lets go."

The Farley and Korn led the way across the Great Hall to the Entrance hall and veered right towards a door on the opposite side. It opened to reveal a stone spiral staircase similar to the one in the Entrance Hall. The first years trooped down, Vitani trailing behind. She heard a soft swishing sound and turned to see the Bloody Baron following her.

"That was quite the story you strung," he rasped.

"I'm quite the stringer of stories," she whispered back.

He gave her a scrutinizing look with his soulless black eyes. After a while, he said, "So there may just be some variation yet."

She smiled at him and he gave a small smile back. If she was stuck in Slytherin, at least she could talk to this guy.

Farley and Korn led them through a series of passages from the staircase and Vitani tried to keep track; left, right, right, straight, right, left, left… until finally they stopped in front of a damp stonewall. If she looked closely enough, the cracks seemed to form a twisted snake…

"This is the entrance to our common room," began Korn, "It's hidden behind this wall that only Slytherins with the password can access. _Don't_ give it away to anyone outside the house," he said this in a very serious tone. "The password is changed every three weeks, the new password being put up on the notice board on the Thursday of that third week. For now the password is '_verum magi'_."

She knew enough Latin to know that the Slytherins were full of themselves. 'True magicians', really? At the sound of the password, a section of the wall pushed back and then slid out of sight, revealing a short passage. This opened up to a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several older Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs. The color scheme screamed green, silver and black. There were small porthole-like windows, which Vitani saw keep gallons upon gallons of green lake water from flooding the room. For a moment she thought she saw a tentacle flit past one, but then thought better of it.

"This way girls," said Farley as she directed them toward a door off the left side of the room. The boys went towards a door to the right. This time the passage was something like a glass tube, which the girls could see the murky lake and its inhabitants through. They entered yet another circular room with seven more doors, each labeled for a particular year. The girls entered the door labeled 1 and Farley left them.

The five girls met five luxurious green four-poster beds. Their luggage was already settled beside their beds. On top of the covers of each bed were a set of green and silver striped ties and a green and silver striped scarf, most likely for the winter months.

The girls dug out their pajamas and, too tired to speak, got into their beds. When the girls weren't looking, Tani stuffed Akane-scarf beneath the covers and she transformed back into a red fox. Both in bed, Akane curled up in Vitani's arms and they drifted off to sleep.

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**NOBODY EVER SUSPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!**

**If you don't know where that's from… I pity you. Look it up.**

**Please review, even if it's criticism I still like to know what you think.**


	9. Severus Snape

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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Vitani woke up the next day with a groan. No matter how luxurious the bed, how great the dinner, how well she slept, she always felt terrible waking up in a place she wasn't use to. It was a shame; she was usually a morning person.

She changed into her new robes and put on the Slytherin tie that had been left on her bed the previous night. She grabbed her book bag and left the dorm room, through the hall and into the common room. She didn't bother waiting for the prefects to guide her back to the Hall, which was probably the reason why they were standing in the room waiting. Instead she left, guessed at which way to turn, and somehow made it back to the Entrance hall without really trying.

When she entered the Great Hall, the loud noise of conversations considerably decreased, all the heads turning to look at her.

_It's not polite to stare, _she thought, but then heard footsteps behind her. She turned, and there was Harry Potter, Weasley, Finnigan and Neville.

_Ah, that makes much more sense._

She watched them pass her, Harry's eyes looking at the floor but the other boys beaming with joy of accompanying _the_ Harry Potter. After a moment, while everyone was still watching him, she pulled out her wand and concentrated on a spell she had read in one of her books.

"Dipengere," she whispered, pointing her wand at her tie.

This was her first time using magic and was doubtful anything would happen. However, the tie changed colors just as she wanted, the green bleeding into red and the silver melting into gold. Perfect.

She followed the boys, her hair shadowing her face as she walked by the other three tables to the Gryffindor table. Before she sat down, she tucked her tie further into her robes so no one could really tell what colors they were at all. She had sat just seconds after the boys, all of them talking about what their new classes would be like, and the occasional question towards Harry that had apparently not been asked last night. She quickly snagged a waffle and strawberries and began eating.

It was a while before anyone noticed her presence, but then one of the red head twins (she guessed they were Weasleys) reached for a second piece of toast but stopped to stare at her. She did not look up and kept all her focus on her waffle. It was good, _really _good, but not as delicious as her mum's.

The boy nudged his twin and then both began to stare at her. The second twin shrugged and the first scrunched his eyebrows at him, questioning his lack of curiosity. Then they both seemed to have a silent argument between each other that only twins could have, and then they began eating their food again.

_Good, they didn't notice._

"Vitani?"

_Damnit Neville._

The first twin whispered "Hah!" to his brother, and before anyone else noticed, she covered Neville's mouth.

"Quiet Nev, you'll attract the whole the Hall," she whispered.

"B-but what are you doing here?" he whispered back and the twins leaned towards them.

She gave them a '_really, you're that interested in this conversation'_ look and turned to Neville "Well, why can't I be here?"

"This is the Gryffindor table."

"I don't see a name on it," she said, twirling her fork, "for all you know this could be the Dumbledore table and you'd never be able to tell."

"But the Gryffindors always sit here."

"How can you be so sure? You haven't even been here a whole day. Maybe Wednesdays are Slytherdor days but everyone forgot."

"Slytherdor days?" whispered the twins together.

"You know, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors switch places for the day."

"Oh, I think you mean Gryfferin days," said the second twin, smirking and playing along.

"Yeah, you're thinking about Mondays," said the first twin, going along with it too.

"Are there really days when the houses switch up?" asked Neville, looking highly confused.

"Of course not," said a snooty voice down the table.

Vitani turned to see the bushy haired girl (what was her name? Right, Hermione Granger) move from her spot two seats down to the spot across from her.

"It's not very nice to tease people like that," she went on.

"I intended nothing of the sort. I was only explaining to Neville that there's nothing stopping me from sitting here."

"Gryffindors sit here. They've sat here for over a thousand years-"

"I don't know, my butt'd be pretty sore if I sat here for that long," laughed the first twin.

"-_And,_" she stressed, ignoring his remark, "the other houses have sat at their respectful tables for that long as well. The Four Founders set them up like that; it's all in Hogwarts, A History."

"That sounds like conformist talk to me," Tani said, slapping her hand on the table, startling a few students around her. "We need some anarchy around here! It goes great with bacon and eggs."

"We tried that last year," said the first twin.

"It didn't go too well," finished the second.

By now Vitani, the Weasley twins, Hermione and Neville had garnered some attention from the rest of the Gryffindors, who were all staring at them.

"I'd think it'd be wise if you got up and went back to your own table, before you cause any more disturbances," Hermione whispered to her, looking at the others.

"I'd be more of a disturbance if I got up and left. Hermione, can't I be a Gryffindor for at least the rest of breakfast?" _like I need her permission._

"I guess," she said weakly, glancing at the clock on the wall. Lucky for Hermione, the rest of breakfast did not last too long. The bell rang, signaling the start of the day. Vitani got up and picked up her bag, snagging one last strawberry before she left. Her bag was considerably heavier than it was before. She looked down to see Akane had snuck into it. Before she went to follow the other first year Slytherins, the twins tapped her on the shoulder.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service," they chimed and gave a mock bow.

"Vitani DeVera, a pleasure," she said with a fake curtsy.

"You're pretty cool for a Slytherin."

"You two aren't bad yourselves… for Slytherdors…"

"Gryfferins!" they shouted behind her as she walked away laughing.

The first day of classes, Wednesday, started off well enough. Because she was trailing behind the others as Malfoy and Pansy led them, she could learn from their mistakes. On their way to Transfiguration, Malfoy had spent all of five minutes trying to wrench open a door that wasn't really a door, but a wall pretending to be. On their way down to Herbology, Pansy and Nott got stuck on a trick staircase and had to have their legs pulled out by a fifth year passing by. When they were walking into their first class of Astronomy (daytime), Crabbe had crashed the door open and the door retaliated, smacking him down to the floor. Some doors liked to be tickled, others to be scratched behind their handles. Four of the one hundred and forty-two staircases had vanishing steps, two of the 142 flattened into ramps if you tripped on them, sending you back down, and one a the very top of the castle would act like an escalator, going up if you needed to go down and vice versa. The stairs, halls, pictures and coats of armor all moved, shifting whenever they felt like.

The ghosts and people in the portraits were willing to give directions to new students, but one of them, a poltergeist named Peeves, was a horror to meet between classes. He always had spit wads and ink pellets at the ready, and dumped wastepaper baskets (and the baskets themselves) on their heads. He'd pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The caretaker, who she had expected to be a nice but busy man, was instead a foul and grumpy man by the name of Filch. He and his cat, Mrs. Norris, patrolled the castle, at the ready with a loud screech and a detention slip.

The classes were just as strange, if not more, than the castle. Professor McGonagall immediately began with a stern talking to the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and then proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very excited to start, but they wouldn't be changing furniture into animals for a while. She made them write notes about the transmutation of similarly massed objects and then handed them matches to turn into needles. On her third try Vitani was successful and gained two points. However, those points were lost when Goyle mistakenly set his, and the matches in the vicinity, on fire. Professor McGonagall quickly vanished the matches, restored anyone's singed notes, and deducted five points from Slytherin.

Herbology started off with roll call by a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout. She then talked to them about the class and its importance and then separated the boys and girls into different groups. The girls were given small trays of Pepper Daisies (the magical equivalent of mace) to put into pots. The boys were given Nipping Nillies (little bulbs that grabbed your finger with their tiny roots and nibbled your finger with a small fanged tooth).

They had a break for lunch, where she sat with her house, and then left to attend History of Magic. This was obviously the most lackluster of all the subjects. It was the only one taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, who droned on and on about odd witches and wizards and ogre wars and Goblin conferences and what have you. It probably would have been extremely interesting in anyone else's hands, but the lengthy monotone did it no justice. The class would have made Emmelia absolutely mad. She was enthralled by all history, but this class would have had her on the ground in a nervous breakdown. The day concluded with an introductory lesson in Astronomy during the late afternoon. They would start their real lesson next Monday at midnight. Then there was diner and then off to bed.

Thursday started off similarly. She woke up, sat with own house (after being questioned by Daphne and Pansy about her whereabouts yesterday when they had gone back to the common room. She told them she had gotten lost in the dungeons and Pansy cackled) and then continued the day with double charms with the Hufflepuffs and Defense Against the Dark Arts, again with the Ravenclaws. Charms class was very entertaining; after taking roll call, Professor Flitwick sent everything around the room flying in spectacular orderly chaos. They then practiced wand movements for their first levitation spell next class. Professor Quirrell taught DADA; he kept cloves of Garlic hung in his class, as well as in his turban, though he denied it. He was not the brave adventurer that the first years expected him to be, he quivered and stuttered after being asked questions about his journeys, and Malfoy spent most of the time in class making fun of him while his back was turned.

It was Friday that she really looked forward to. It would be the first time the Slytherins had classes with the Gryffindors and she could see Neville. It would also be the first time meeting the head of her house, Professor Snape. The older Slytherins had gone on and on about him and now she was excited too. And lastly, she had the afternoon off.

After breakfast and an owl delivery from her mother and friends, sending love and cupcakes, she trooped back down the stone steps to one of the large dungeons with the other Slytherins and Gryffindors. It was cold and damp and creepy as hell… she kind of liked it… She entered the dungeon expecting Snape to be much like her beloved chemistry teacher back home. She was wrong. Oh so _wrong._

Snape started class by taking the roll call but paused when he came to Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

_Uh oh,_ she thought, _this doesn't sound good._

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands while Snape finished roll call. He then looked at the class; his eyes were black, cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed this little speech. Many people exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Vitani was beside herself in utter excitement; she had loved making potions with her mother and now would be able to on her own.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_The Draught of Living Death, _she recalled a time when her mum had made that for an insomniac neighbor.

Harry looked extremely confused and glanced at Fred and George's brother, Ron, hoping to get help. Ron looked equally as helpless; all the while Hermione had shot her hand into the air, eager to answer.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

_The antidote drawer, an apothecary… a goat._

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry looked like he didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Vitani turned from his panicked expression to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

_Oh god, I know what you are._

Any hope she had left for the man had been drained away by that last insult. Snape was not one of those all-around hated teachers that everyone loathed, nor was he the nice but easily irritated teacher that everyone was extremely wary of. He was an _I-was-once-wronged-by-something-or-somebody-related-to-you-and-now-I-will-spend-the-rest-of-my-days-hating-you-and-anyone-associated-with-you-for-all-eternity-even-though-I-will-never-admit-it _teacher. Something had happened between Snape and Potter. She didn't know what and neither, apparently, did Harry.

And Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

_Trick question, they're the same plant._

This time Hermione stood from her seat, stretching her hand to infinity.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Some of the Gryffindors laughed and even Daphne gave a giggle. Snape, however, was not amused.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Everyone quickly took a quill from his or her bag and began scribbling down the notes. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

The class got worse as time went on. For one thing, she was utterly bored with their assignment, a cure for boils, which she had made long ago. She flipped through the first pages of her potions book only to find that she had done nearly all of them; she had, in fact, done half the book. There was also the exponentially increasing abuse of the Gryffindors. Each insult to the Gryffindors (mostly to Harry) was emphasized by the snickers from her fellow Slytherins and the sneers from Snape. If his favorite verbal punching bag was Harry, then his second was Neville. He constantly berated him, and any little mistake was met with harsh reprimand. This made Neville panic more and made him cause even worse mistakes. The final blow was melting Seamus' cauldron, spilling incomplete and highly dangerous potion all over the floor.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

That was completely and utterly unfair. This was probably everyone's first time making any potion and they needed to concentrate, no matter how basic the recipe. How could Harry have watched Neville while he was making his own. Rather than Snape just giving them the instructions and letting them go without saying any word of caution, he should have directed them, done the first potion together, like an actual _teacher._ And who gave a damn if the potion was crud, didn't he care about his students wellbeing?

The answer to that was a big, fat _No_.

But the absolute worst thing about the class, about the entire situation, was that she had intended to be Neville's partner for the assignment, had moved toward him and the other Gryffindors when they were forming pairs, but was pulled back by Pansy and Tracey. If she had brushed them off, if she had been there to help Neville then this wouldn't have happened, he wouldn't be in such pain and humiliation and Malfoy and company wouldn't be laughing about it on their way to dinner.

Vitani felt vile.

The week had started off well; it had ended in disaster. Where she may have at one point almost made friends with the other Gryffindors she had lost that opportunity, possibly for good. As she walked passed the Gryffindor table to dinner that Friday, she had seen the Gryffindors give her glares and Vitani put her head down in shame. She hadn't done anything, and that was the problem, she hadn't done _anything_, to hurt _or_ help Neville.

Vitani went to bed that Friday, fully intent on visiting Neville tomorrow in the hospital wing. She curled up in bed, distressed, with cat-Akane rubbing her nose with her nose, trying to soothe her. Before she fell asleep, she remembered the letter her family had sent her, how they had asked how she was doing, if everything was going well. She curled up tighter in bed, dreading answering that question.

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**Updating soon. Please review! Pos or neg, I don't care, I like reading comments.**


	10. Colorblind to Red and Green

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. FMA belongs to ****Hiromu Arakawa.** **Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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Vitani woke up very early on Saturday, around five in the morning, and could not get back to sleep. The hospital wing did not allow visitors until nine, so she picked up a piece of parchment and quill and began writing a letter back to her family and friends. She answered truthfully and honestly, providing detail after detail of her unpleasant experiences. She then tied it to Akane's leg. She, as a cat, would go to the Entrance Hall where she would transform into an owl and fly away. Vitani moved on to her homework, having nothing else to do. She finished the weekend homework as well as several essays not due until the middle of next week. When she glanced at the clock it was 8:17 and some of the others were starting to wake. Before they gained full consciousness she left the room.

She wandered around the unused dungeons and halls, and discovered the kitchen accidentally when she brushed the pear of the fruit bowl painting with her hair and it began to giggle. She did not go in, just looked at the little creatures making food and then left before they saw her. Every so often she kept glancing at her Military Alchemist pocket watch, watching the hand move closer and closer to nine. When it was 8:50 she left the dungeons and made her way to the hospital wing.

What awaited her was immediate disappointment. She met Madam Pomfrey, a kind but strict matron, who told her that Neville had left last night after having dinner in the hospital wing. She left, now facing a problem. Neville was most likely still in Gryffindor tower. If he wasn't, well, she did not wish to search the entire castle for him. She'd rather not have her Saturday be turned into a sitcom in which she always missed finding him by a minute.

She checked the major places, the Great Hall, the library and so on, and then decided that he was in fact in the tower. Seamus and Dean, whom passed by, whispering to each other about how Neville did not want to be seen by the Slytherins, further solidified this. Now fully confident in his whereabouts Vitani began to plan.

She went back to her dorm room grateful that it was empty. Akane was back, which worked perfectly for her. She ate the corn muffins her mother had sent her, read the letter replying to her plight, and decided she would respond later. She took the Slytherin scarf given to her on the first day and changed its colors to red and gold. As she stuffed the scarf in her robes, she asked Akane, "Can you turn into a wig?"

Akane turned into a wig of wild curly red hair. She took Akane and also slid her into her robes and then left the dorm. She did not want to exit the common room as a Gryffindor, so she headed toward the closest bathroom to change. She tied up her hair and put Akane-wig on her head, making sure she fit securely. Then she wrapped the scarf around her neck, covering the bottom of her face. When she looked in the mirror, she could not recognize herself. Perfect.

She headed straight toward Gryffindor tower, following a pair of second years she had spotted. Behind portraits, curtains and side panels she walked, making sure to keep a distance from them. Then she paused at a corner to see them stop in front of a portrait of a large, pink clad woman.

"Caput Draconis," and in they went.

She waited a few moments, backed up a few steps, then came around the corner at a leisurely pace and said to the Fat Lady "Caput Draconis."

The portrait swung forward revealing a hole in the wall. She climbed through and found a much more friendlier, red and gold common room than her own. Keeping her head down, she looked around for Neville but came face to face with Fred. He stared at her straight in the eyes, leaned close and whispered "Chilly, Vee?"

She _hated_ that nickname, but what concerned her more at the moment was her disguise.

"I don't know what you're talking abo-"

"It's the eyes," he whispered, "I can't think of too many people with turquoise eyes." Then he paused and said, "Looking for Neville? I heard what happened yesterday. He's over there," he nodded his head toward the fireplace, then walked off.

She walked towards one of the comfy armchairs near the fire and sure enough, there was Neville, complete with glum expression, blanket and mug of tea.

"Hi Nev," she said softly, knelling near the arm of the chair.

He turned toward her, stared and then turned back to gazing at the fire. Then he did a double take, jumped in the chair and Vitani had to catch the mug from spilling on him.

"V-Vitani? You _are_ Vitani, right? How did you get in here?"

"It's not that hard overhearing people entering the common room."

"Why are you here, though?"

"Yes Vitani, why _are_ you here in _our_ common room."

Vitani looked up, though she did not need to, to see Hermione Granger standing over her. She had said it boldly; in such a way that everyone was now staring at them. She stood up, pulled Akane from her head and the scarf from her face, revealing her face. Only a few people actually recognized her, the first years she had classes with, while many of the older students were confused and did not understand what was happening.

"I can't believe you would break into another house's common room! Don't you have any respect for this school, the rules, privacy in general?!"

"I came to see Neville, and this is a common room; if you're expecting privacy then you've lost your mind."

"This is the Gryffindor common room, you're a Slytherin," many people gasped at this, "and you are not allowed in here."

"There is no rule in this school that says I cannot enter this common room or any other common room. I knew the password, the Fat Lady let me in, and I'm legal so get over it."

"So you're here to see Neville, huh?" said Ron, looking very angry, "here to torture him more and leave with our secrets?"

"Good God! Who the hell do you think you are, Ganondorf? You think I'm some kind of spy sent to ruin you? Heaven forbid I tell Malfoy you all play gob-stones and poker on Saturday mornings while you snack and talk about your big, bad plans for the world! I'm here to see my friend, I'm here to say my house is full of gits, that Snape's an eel, that it's best that Nev cheer up and not think of them, that they're not worth the dirt on his shoes and he shouldn't care. But maybe you're right, why am I here? Obviously I'm not needed, because you're doing a fine job of cheering him up yourselves. It's near eleven but he's still sitting there with no one else around him, were you just going to let him sit there for the whole _day!_ He's there, alone, with plenty of people in this room doing their own thing, _you_ doing your own thing, and you have the gall, the _gall, _to accuse me when I'm the only one going out of their way to see if he's okay?"

Wow, that felt really exhilarating. Usually she didn't snap that often, she usually used large words and cunning psychology to make her opponents trap themselves. But in this situation she felt this way was best. It certainly garnered an interesting reaction; Hermione and Ron were shifting their feet looking very awkward, and many of the other Gryffindors were looking at the floor. Some of them, notably the Weasley twins, were smirking and chuckling to themselves. Neville looked extremely embarrassed but also extremely elated. Harry's expression though, was the most intriguing. He was staring at her with his eyebrows hunched in such a way that made it seem like he was concentrating hard on something, like trying to make a decision or remember a forgotten woe.

"I'll see you later Neville," she said, very agitated by what had just passed. She was about to leave through the hole when someone grabbed her wrist. She turned around to see it was Harry, still staring at her with the same hard expression on his face. Then he said something she would have never expected him, or anyone in the castle to say to her, and which made the Gryffindors even more shocked and confused than they already were.

"It's dangerous to go alone," he said seriously, "take this."

He placed a small folded piece of parchment into her hand. She looked at him with wide eyes and then stared at the parchment in her hand. Finally she unfolded it, and there on the parchment was a small, crudely drawn sword. She looked back up at him, the message fully received. She put the small picture in her pocket and beamed at Harry. He beamed back. They shook hands. The war was over.

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Things between her and the Gryffindors settled down quite nicely after that Saturday morning. Ron and Hermione had apologized, saying that most of their antagonism was not personally toward her, but Malfoy and Pansy, who had been teasing them since they all arrived at platform 9 ¾. Maybe it was his fame or his personality, she didn't know, but Harry had been able to easily win over the Gryffindors, saying she couldn't possibly have an evil agenda if she was a Zelda fan. They did not know what to say to this and did not ask further, just accepted it. She spent the majority of that Saturday hanging out with them and then left back for the Slytherin common room. When she returned, she wrote a much happier letter back to her family and friends and went to bed.

Sunday and the next week of school went by very quickly. She was excelling in all of her classes, especially Potions, where Snape had taken more of a liking to her each day. Originally Malfoy had been his star pupil, as Snape and Mr. Malfoy were schoolmates, but that changed as Vitani demonstrated her advanced knowledge of the subject… and the fact that Malfoy had almost poisoned the entire class on Tuesday when his cauldron started spewing toxic smoke.

She was looking forward to Thursday, as the Slytherins would start their first flying lessons with the Gryffindors. She had never flown before and for some reason had never thought about it until she saw the notice on the board in the common room. She knew there was a toy broom somewhere in the attic back home, yet it had not been an interest to her. But it was an interest to her now. Flying! Who knew what she could do with a skill like that in her arsenal.

The only thing she did not enjoy about the thought of flying was the constant annoyance that had named itself Malfoy. In every class, at lunch, in the common room, everywhere he went he boasted about his superior flying skills, how he was chased by helicopters every other day, how he out stripped those in every race he was in, how he was the best Quidditch player. All lies; he probably had never been a hundred feet off the ground.

Thursday led them to the outside of the castle and on to the grounds. It was a wonderful clear day with the slightest breeze, perfect for flying. A few moments later the Gryffindors arrived with Madam Hooch, a woman with short gray hair and yellow hawk eyes.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Everyone rushed toward one of the twenty broomsticks lying in the grass. Most of them were old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP" everyone shouted.

The broom did not come to her hand. Glaring at her broom, Vitani said "UP, or suffer the consequences." The broom came to her that time and she waited for further instructions. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount and grip their brooms. She corrected Malfoy, telling him he had been doing it wrong for years, and she and Harry and Ron snickered.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two-"

Before she even touched her whistle Neville was off, shooting up in the air in a nervous and jumpy state.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Vitani saw his terrified white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

"Neville!" Vitani shouted, running toward Madam Hooch, who was bending over him, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," she heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil, a Gryffindor.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Vitani stayed in place, contemplating her next course of actions.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." A Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He _hadn't_ been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

_This isn't the time to be thinking about the rules Hermione._

Harry ignored her. Face red, he mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up he soared. Many of the girls gasped and screamed and Ron gave an admiring whoop. Vitani was very tempted to shout out "Do a barrel roll!" Harry turned to face Malfoy in the air.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry leaned forward and shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down; next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball. A foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Professor McGonagall was running toward them.

"Never, in all my time at Hogwarts," she said furiously, "how dare you- might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry, looking horrified, followed McGonagall, dropping the Remembrall on the ground. It lay forgotten by all but Vitani.

"HA! That's just what Potter deserves, a detention from his own house head."

"Oh shut it Malfoy," snapped Ron, looking posed for a fight.

"Yeah Weasley? Hoping to earn some cash by making a fool of yourself?"

The Slytherins cackled.

"You're nothing but a toe rag Malfoy."

"Yeah, Drakey… Nuttin' but a toe rag," said a voice.

All the students looked around, wondering where the voice had come from. They saw nothing.

"Like to take things from people, don't cha Drakey? Like when people get beat up… I aughta beat you up."

Then the Remembrall rose from the ground in front of Malfoy and began to hit him, leaving red spots on hit face.

"ARGH! AH, get-GET AWAY!" yelled Malfoy, slapping his hands at the tiny marble. It dodged his hands and continued its onslaught. The other Slytherins tried to catch the ball while Malfoy covered his face with his hands. The ball shot to and fro, escaping from every hand that lunged for it, and began pelting the back of Malfoy's head. Trying to cover both his face and the back of his head, he ran away toward the forest. He nearly made it when Hooch had returned and shouted to him "MR. MALFOY!"

Instantly the ball dropped and rolled to its original spot on the ground. Madam Hooch made her way toward Malfoy and dragged him back toward the class.

"How dare you attempt to go into the Forbidden Forest; I think the title speaks for itself! You will lose house points for this, oh yes."

"I was being chased! I was being chased by-"

"I saw nothing chasing you Mr. Malfoy, now-"

"But it's true, Madam Hooch!" piped in Tracey. "Draco was being chased by a Remembrall! A possessed one!"

"What on earth are you talking about girl?"

"Longbottom has a Remebrall, he dropped it when he fell, and when you left," she skipped over the events with Harry, "it started attacking Draco!"

"Do you mean this?" Vitani said as she picked up the small ball from the ground. "It's been here the whole time where Neville dropped it."

Madam Hooch immediately rounded on Tracey. "How dare you lie to a teacher! Ten points from Slytherin!"

"No! She's telling the truth!" said Pansy.

"Yeah!" said the other Slytherins.

"That is enough! All of you march right back to your common room. I'm going to be talking to Professor Snape about you lot. And you," she turned to Malfoy, "ten more points off."

They all began walking toward the castle, but Madam Hooch pulled Vitani aside.

"You can go off to dinner with the Gryffindors, Miss DeVera, you've done nothing wrong."

"Thank you Madam Hooch," she said humbly and turned to join the Gryffindors, smiling wickedly all the way to the Great Hall.


	11. Hellhound

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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That night after dinner there was an intervention in the common room.

"Why the hell did you lie about Malfoy being pelted by that Remembrall? You got us all in trouble! Whose side are you on anyway?!" questioned Pansy. She was pacing back and forth in front of Vitani, who was sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs. The rest of the Slytherins were behind Pansy, looking very much like an audience at a trial.

"I didn't lie, he wasn't attacked by the Remembrall," she said calmly.

"Liar! We were there, we saw it, it chased Draco all the way to the forest!"

"Then you all need to have your eyes checked," she said, and the first years grumbled.

"Oh, _okay_, so what do _you_ think happened?"

"He was being stung by a bee."

Pansy and the other Slytherins were silent, then-

"Are you a fool?! Do you expect us to believe that crap? That's the worst excuse I've ever-"

At that moment Draco cried "ouch!" and clapped a hand to his check, wincing. Everyone turned to him concerned.

"What happened Draco?" worried Daphne, putting a hand on Malfoy's hand.

"A bee just stung me."

And as everyone looked at his stung face a bee buzzed by above them all.

"There it is!"

The bee made another attempt to sting Malfoy and then flew away from the students, who tried swatting the insect. It flew away through the open door.

"Maybe it really was a bee that attacked Malfoy earlier," said Daphne.

"You were eating those sweets at breakfast," said Zabini. "It was probably attracted to your face from the sugar."

"Maybe…" pondered Malfoy. "I couldn't really see it, I was covering my face…"

"Alright, so maybe it was a bee, but that doesn't explain that voice we heard," Pansy deliberated.

"I think that might have been Peeves; it sounded like him," said Tracey.

"That wouldn't be the first time Peeves used insects to plague the students," said a burly sixth year. "He once dumped a whole bucket of roaches on a girl's head three years ago.

The Slytherins all began to mutter and ponder this information, but Pansy was not satisfied.

"That still doesn't explain why you lied to Hooch about Malfoy being a attacked, even if it was by a bee. Why didn't you say that to her?"

Vitani looked toward the floor and forced herself to blush. After a moment when she still didn't answer Pansy's question, Pansy said, "_Well?_"

Still she didn't answer, and bit her bottom lip. Then she murmured slowly, "I-I was worried about his reputation."

"What?" All the Slytherins looked very confused.

"I mean, Malfoy has a reputation to keep up… we all do… for the noble house of Slytherin," now her head was up, but her eyes were to the ground. "I just thought, well, it would look bad if Malfoy got defeated by an insect…"

It was a risky plan, very risky, but she knew it would work. No matter how pathetic the excuse (and this excuse was _terrible_) if it came to protecting the honor of the Slytherin house, they would all do anything- even believe this bull.

The Slytherins began conversing with each other again like a jury. After a few moments, a third year chuckled "That is pretty pathetic, being chased by a bee." The first domino had fallen, and soon the whole house was snickering and full on laughing at Malfoy's humiliation. Malfoy's face turned a lovely tomato red, and he buried his head in his hands. Even Pansy was giggling slightly, but when she looked at Malfoy she sobered up.

"Well, I'm sorry we, _I_, doubted you DeVera."

_I'm sorry you're all such self-absorbed morons. You'd have to be pretty stupid to believe all that bull. _"No, no, you had every right to be suspicious."

The Slytherins broke up from their gathering and went to their pastimes. Malfoy and Pansy went to the Hospital wing to check Malfoy's face. Vitani left the common room and went to a bathroom near the entrance to the Entrance Hall. Inside was a small bee on one of the taps.

"Good work Akane; I hope none of them hurt you," she whispered as the bee transformed into a fox. The fox had its teeth pulled back in almost a grin, and shook its head.

"Come on, let's snag some snacks before we go to bed."

Akane transformed to a cat and hopped on to her shoulder. They made their way through the labyrinth of halls until they came to the food portrait-filled hallway. She walked up to the fruit bowl painting, tickled the pear and the canvas opened to the kitchen. She had visited frequently in the past couple days since her discovery, and the small creatures were always happy to accommodate her.

They were called house elves, they told her, and they worked at Hogwarts, manning the kitchen and cleaning the castle at night. Though she was very shocked and upset to hear that they worked without pay, she saw they were very, _very_ happy to wait on the castle for the satisfaction of a job well done. She did not question them, instead she wrote a letter to her father asking about the elves. He explained that for the longest time, elves were friendly creatures that liked to be helpful to other creatures and lived off the emotions of satisfaction and happiness. So they were employed by wizards and thus named 'house elves'. However, as time went on, some wizards began to mistreat the elves and work them as slaves. Elves are not as weak and stupid as some wizards think, they began to find loopholes and mess up their master's orders. They could get very nasty if they felt they had to, otherwise they were just very friendly creatures.

Vitani took some cake and bits of chicken for Akane and retired to the common room. She didn't want to eat in her bed, so she sat near the fire, staring into the warm orange haze.

She was startled awake from a creaking door and realized she had fallen asleep on the couch. She looked up and then immediately ducked down again as she saw Crabbe step from the boy's dormitory. Then she heard a grunt and a voice she recognized all to well.

"What the heck are you doing Crabbe?"

"Trophy room," he grunted.

"You idiot, I only said I'd duel him to get Potter expelled!" Malfoy whispered harshly. "Come on, come back to the dormitory with me." They both left, Malfoy creeping and Crabbe lumbering. When they were gone she lifted her head to stare at the common room door.

_I guess Potter wouldn't be that stupid to get himself caught, right? _She thought about it for a minute and decided that, no, Harry wouldn't probably be stupid enough but he would be too headstrong to ignore the challenge.

_I'm going to have to go and stop him aren't I?_

She got up and Akane looked up at her from her place on the couch. When she saw her human companion walking toward the door she stretched and followed her. She jumped on to Tani's shoulders and instantly became a long black cloak.

"Nice Akane."

She crept up from the dungeons, blending into the shadows when she saw someone approach. After sneaking from shadow to shadow she finally came upon the trophy room, the gold and silver awards glinting in the soft moonlight. No one was there.

_Well, maybe I was wrong…_she then heard a group of whispers, coming from the second entrance, _… or not._

She turned and ducked into the darkest corner of the room, pulling the cloak tight around her. The group could not see her, but she could see them. She had been right; Harry was here along with Ron and oddly, Hermione and Neville. She thought Hermione would never condone this midnight walk, and Neville would be too frightened by the dark castle. Harry and Ron crept closer, peering into the room but Hermione stood rigid in the doorway.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

"He was never coming to begin with," Vitani said as she stepped from the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" whispered Harry and Neville.

"I'm here to tell you that Malfoy wouldn't dare risk his neck when he can just manipulate you," she began, "which I can't believed actually worked, but, what's done is done. Try not to be so gullible next time and get back to the Gryffindor common room before Filch finds you."

"That git!" whispered Ron harshly.

"I told you," said Hermione, "now you're all going to get us in trouble.

"You're like a broken record, you know that?" spat Ron.

"Quiet!" hushed Vitani.

There was a noise in the next room over and then a dusty voice rasped out "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Vitani and Harry looked at each other, Ron silently cursed and Neville squeaked. Hermione's face instantly changed from snooty outrage to sheer terror. Vitani waved them to follow her through the back entrance of the trophy room and into the corridors. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"Come on, around here!" she mouth to them and led them around the winding halls. Filch was still getting closer. At a ferocious sneeze by Filch, Neville let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. He tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"Run!" cried Harry, and they all trampled after him except Vitani, who melted into the shadowed corners in the hall and whispered "Akane, turn into Peeves!"

And there he was, floating above her head. On her command, Akane-Peeves began to cackle wildly and swoop up and all around the corridor, rattling the remaining coats of armor. Filch spotted the Peeves doppelganger immediately and swerved from his path, chasing Peeves rather than the Gryffindors. When Akane had led him far enough away, Vitani darted from the shadows and up after the group, hoping that was the last close call they'd have tonight.

She finally found them in a dead end hallway, all of them gasping for breath and Hermione hissing, "Malfoy tricked you, you realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Don't worry about that now, I've got Filch plenty distracted back near the trophy room. Just get yourselves back up to your dormitory before something else comes," she urged them.

But it just wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves, the _real_ Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please," begged Hermione.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves.

It would have been a disaster, but as Peeves was about to shout out into the night, a second Peeves came through the walls above them. The two Peeves stared at each other for quite awhile. Vitani thought they might have escaped capture. Yet it seemed this spelled disaster as well, for when the real Peeves finally recovered from seeing his double, he screamed, "Doppleganger! Copycat! Body snatcher! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The Gryffindors ducked under Peeves, as Akane transformed into a cat and fell on to Vitani's shoulders. As they ran for their lives, Ron gasped, "how can his body be snatched if he's a ghost?"

"Is this really the time to be asking that?!" Hermione snapped.

They ran right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps approaching, Filch was trying to catch up with Peeves.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

A turn and a click and the door swung open and they toppled in, slamming the door behind them. They could hear Filch's stomping toward Peeves, who was still screeching about his doppelganger.

"I've got you this time Peeves, you're going to be exorcized from this school for this ruckus!"

"Noisy, noisy; spooky, spooky. Filch and Peevesy both gone kooky!"

"Will you shut it Peeves!"

"You let the ickle firsties get away with Peevesy's twinsy!"

"What? First years? Where are they Peeves?!"

"Say 'please.'"

"You damn poltergeist, where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"Merlin! Fine - please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing and stomping off in rage. Slowly the sounds faded away.

But their was another, more harsh sound now coming behind them; Vitani turned to meet the largest eyes she had ever seen, from a creature she thought only existed in the underworld. It was a gigantic, black Hellhound, looking very much like the guardian of Hades, Cerberus. It easily towered over them, their heads not even reaching to the great beast's chest. It was breathing heavily from its three mouths, in shock of intruders or desire of fresh meat, she didn't know.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered, unknown of the nightmare in back of them. "I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!" Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute, trying desperately to attract Harry to the more troubling concern at hand. "What?"

Finally Harry was aware of the tremendous dog behind them. They all stared in horrid awe and a thought came to Vitani. They had just entered from the third corridor, the forbidden corridor, and now she knew why. Yet in that horrible moment of clarity came another small, more intriguing discovery. The beast was chained to this place that was in fact another corridor rather than some sort of room, and it was sitting on something plated, something separate from the floor. A trap door?"

She couldn't ponder the beast's presence in the school any longer; it had finally made a decision after its initial shock, to consume. The three heads snapped their jaws at them and in a flash the group toppled through the door and did a headlong sprint to the Gryffindor tower. From down the hallway Harry shouted, "Pig snout! Pig snout!" and the Fat Lady, grumbling, swung forward for them to dive into the common room. They lied there on the carpet for a long time; the only sounds were their heavy panting and the crackle of the dying fire.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" panted Ron. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. It gave Vitani déjà vu. "Didn't you see what it was standing on."

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

The first one to push herself up off the floor was Hermione. She dusted herself off, still looking pale but agitated as well.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

_Expulsion is worse than death… just what the hell did your parents bring you up to be? Does she think they can't expel her if she's dead? _

"No, we don't mind," Ron muttered as they watched Hermione leave for the girl's dormitory. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

"She's got a point though," said Vitani. "They wouldn't keep that hellhound there for nothing."

"You know what that thing was?" asked Harry incredulously.

"My sister has one…"

"WHAT!"

"No, no, I mean… they don't usually get that big… all the hellhounds they sell in shops are usually miniature, they only get to be the size of a Great Dane. This one must have been bought illegally or something. Breeders aren't allowed to sell classic Hellhounds for, well, obvious reasons. But that's not the point," she said, shaking her head, "that beast isn't there to scare students and that trapdoor isn't there for it to sit on. That dog is guarding something very, very important."

"Well, whatever it is, it'll be staying right where it is; no one's getting past that thing," said Ron.

Harry and Ron started walking up to the boy's dormitory. Neville, who had been silent for the entire time finally spoke, "What are you going to do Vitani?"

She looked up at the clock on the wall; it was 1:30 a.m.

"I'm going to crash here, if that's alright?"

"It's not like I can stop you," he said, grinning a little.

He left her and Akane to the dormitory. She sat near the fire and curled herself on one of the soft armchairs. It was cramped but it could have been worse. She was use to sleeping like this. At least this time she would be warm.


	12. Family

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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Vitani was having a very strange dream. It involved the monstrous dog she had met last night, except the beast was wearing a tutu and Neville was standing on top of the dog in a leotard. The tutu hellhound jumped on to a large circus ball in the center of a ring as Neville juggled flaming torches on the dog's back. But this was not the odd part of her dream; the odd part was a very raspy voice in the background, barely audible above the circus music. Before she could hear any more she woke up to someone poking her in the stomach. It was George, who was knelling in front of the armchair poking her with a long finger while the other Gryffindors watched puzzled in the background.

"Little Tani's lost her way a bit, hasn't she?" he asked, turning his head to a random Gryffindor. "Such a shame, there was so much promise for her."

Vitani felt ice water running down her back. She snapped, "Don't ever say that again!"

"What?" he asked; grinning. "So much promise-"

"STOP!" she yelled, cringing into the cushions. She shook and was very tempted to grab her hair with her hands.

"Whoa, too loud in the morning," came Fred as he crossed the room from the dormitory. "What the heck did you say to her?"

"Don't ever say it, don't ever say that, don't ever, ever say that, don't ever-"

"Yeah, we get it, don't ever say that. What's wrong with you? Are you alright?"

_No, I'm not all right. _"I'm-I'm fine. Nothing… it's nothing."

They didn't look convinced in the slightest.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked George, genuinely concerned.

"…that phrase… brings back… not good memories."

The twins looked at each other with bemused faces and stayed like that for a long moment, before their faces brightened. They turned toward her and tackled her, tickling her.

"St-st-stop! Stop i-it! Hahaha, st-stop! Hahahahaaaa, haha I, I can't br-breathe!

If Vitani forgetting the last three minutes had been their plan then they had succeeded with flying colors. She couldn't remember anything past them picking her up between the two of them and carrying her out the portrait hole. Akane stayed curled up on the armchair as a cat, slumbering away.

"Guys, you have to put me down. Come on, seriously, the other Slytherins can't see me like this, not for now at least."

"What do you mean, 'for now'?" asked Fred.

"Well, once I learn enough protective spells in DADA, I won't have to put up with the crap the Slytherins dish out. They won't spare me if I suddenly announce I'm friends with you guys. Besides, I have to play the deception card as much as I can before it's gone, you know?"

"That is absolutely true; who knows how long you'll be able to pass off your misdeeds as Peeves' antics?"

She looked up at them with a bemused face.

"And where did you get an idea like that from?"

"We heard about the Remembrall attacking Malfoy from our brother, and we also heard about all the first year Slytherins getting told off by Hooch with the exception of you," said Fred amused.

"We put two and two together," said George simply.

They let her down and headed toward the Great Hall. Needing to change, she snuck through the castle to her dormitory, then to the kitchen to grab some toast and an apple, and just barely made it to Charms on time. After explaining the incantation for a repairing charm, they had been given broken plates to practice on. Half way through the lesson, yet another inquisition began.

"Where were you at breakfast?" said Pansy, ever the inquirer.

"I fancied a morning stroll," said Vitani nonchalantly, fixing her fifth plate.

"And last night?"

"I fell asleep in the common room," at least this was half true.

"Oh Pansy, leave her alone. Haven't you questioned her enough this week?" whined Daphne.

She did have a point. Besides this conversation and last night's interrogation, Pansy had spent the first two weeks of the year asking on and on about her family, her former life before Hogwarts and all the strange things she carried around with her. Binders and packs of pens and pencils were much cheaper and more compact than rolls of parchment and quills. Her notes were much neater than her classmates because of this, but the items themselves garnered a lot of attention from the pureblood kids and the staff. Professor McGonagall showed a particular interest to the little set up of transfiguration notes on the neat, evenly lined paper. Vitani also carried around various little trinkets that the magical children would have never seen before. One of them was a metallic windup toy she had gotten from her maternal grandfather. It was a small, copper rabbit that hopped across a surface when wound with the small key. It was one of the only muggle objects that worked at Hogwarts.

Pansy had taken the time to investigate this little trinket, questioning how it was obviously a muggle toy and why it would possibly be in her possession. Like everything else, Vitani blatantly lied to her face with a nonchalant voice. The other Slytherins, annoyed with Pansy's non-stop questioning, would rebuke her and Tani would sneakily leave the room.

"Now, now, enough chitchat ladies," came Flitwick from the other side of the room. "Okay Miss Parkinson, let's see what you've got."

Contorting her face, she said "Reparo!"

The broken pieces burst into flames.

"Why is it you Slytherins seem to enjoy setting fire to everything?" sighed Professor Flitwick as he extinguished the flames. "Professor McGonagall and I have had just about enough of scorched materials and singed notes." The class was given extra practice homework on top of the essay due, and they trooped to their last class for the morning grumbling.

Vitani spent the next week avoiding extra work and gaining points for her house. Most of the other Slytherins spent their time losing the points that she earned and gaining more work. They weren't always losing points, but they didn't earn them honestly either. Snape gave most of them to half decent potions while he mocked the other houses' work.

On Friday she had a rushed breakfast in the kitchen again and then followed the gaggle of girls in back while the boys led them to Herbology outside. From the front she could hear Malfoy lamenting about something to do with a broomstick.

"I knew he might get away from Filch, but I don't know how the heck Potter managed to get a broomstick and _not_ get expelled. Geez, it's like all the teachers love him or something; so much for no favoritism."

"Yes Malfoy, god forbid any teacher in this school show favoritism," Tani scoffed, thinking of Snape.

"It's just so unfair," pouted Tracey, "you're a much better flier than him."

"Than he is."

"What?"

" 'You're a much better flier than he is,' 'than him' is just bad grammar."

Tracey looked irritated but Daphne giggled.

"That doesn't matter, it's unfair anyway. Why does Potter get a broom and Draco doesn't?"

"I can think of quite a few things more unfair than that," Tani deadpanned as she watched Goyle trip a Hufflepuff entering the green house.

The weeks were going by very quickly at Hogwarts; one day Vitani looked up at the calendar on the notice board and realized two months had gone by. She had garnered a reputation in her potions class; she was so advanced that Snape let her do as she pleased, so long as she was making some kind of potion. She was excelling in her other classes as well. The Slytherins were astounded by this and put her up on a figurative pedestal alongside side the Gryffindor, Hermione Granger. They teased Hermione while boasting about Vitani, and again she was at odd ends with the bushy haired girl.

Pansy continued her onslaught of questions, never satisfied with the answers given to her; she was in serious doubt of Vitani's blood status and family name, due to the muggle objects and references Vitani frequently used. This was solidified when Pansy came to her at one point with a book in her hands, _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy._ The name 'DeVera' was not in this book. Luckily, there was a huge flaw to this research; the book only covered North West Europe, and for once she did not tell Pansy a lie. Her name was in fact foreign and would not be covered in the research that went into the book. Completely humiliated and infuriated, Pansy stormed off in search of foreign wizard genealogy documents.

It was during Halloween night, when the castle had been festively decorated with spooky magic galore, and the pumpkin dishes superb, that Pansy was interrupted in her investigation. She may have found new information, Vitani did not know, because just as Pansy began to speak at dinner Professor Quirrell came in, looking extremely disheveled and pale.

"Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

And then he collapsed.

The Great Hall immediately erupted in hysterics, only silenced by several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Farley and Korn stood up at the table and directed all the Slytherins back to the common room. They loitered around, muttering to each other about the troll intrusion.

"How could a troll get in, aren't they suppose to be really stupid?"

"Who knows, it's more likely that someone let it in."

"I bet you anything it was Peeves."

"Figures."

"Where would it have come from?"

"The forest, maybe."

"Could they really have trolls there? I thought they were a more mountainous type of creature."

"This is freaking Hogwarts, all kinds of weird shit happens here. Or so my parent told me."

"Speaking of parents-"

"Oh Merlin, Parkinson don't you dare start," snapped Farley. "I've had just about enough of this inquisition of Vitani. It's gone on for two months, and I'd rather not listen to it for the remaining eight."

"But her name doesn't appear anywhere in any of the genealogy documents or family trees I've looked through!"

"Geez Pansy, you sound a lot like Granger, her nose always stuck in a book," said Malfoy.

"That's not the point-"

"Pansy, half of our family names don't show up in those books, they were published centuries ago. Names change as time goes on, some family lines disappear and others are created, people _move._"

"They didn't even bother making any documents about the purebloods in Africa," mutter Zabini. "And who's to say that the library here is packed with all the information on the planet. Listen to her name, it sounds foreign, not English or Irish or anything."

_I'd really rather not discuss this; in fact, I'd rather meet the troll._

And she had nearly gotten out the door too, but Crabbe had been blocking the way.

"Her name is a combination of French and Italian," Pansy said smartly, "'De' means 'of' in French and 'Vera' means 'true' in Italian. If her name's a hybrid than she must be too!"

"Come off it Pansy, I'm sure there are plenty of multilingual names in pureblood families. Think about it, people are arrogant and they like fighting over everything, including their names. It wouldn't be the first time two families combined their names because they were both too stubborn to relent to the opposite side," explained Farley.

"Fine! Why doesn't she just tell us about her family then! I've been asking her all this time but she's been avoiding me!"

"If you were always down my throat I'd avoid you too, Parkinson," intoned Korn.

"_Well,_ DeVera, please explain to us your _vast_ family history," Pansy barked, turning to her.

"I have a mum, a dad, an older sister and one set of grandparents; the other set died a long time ago," she began without emotion. "Dad was in Ravenclaw," this was true, "mum was in Slytherin," if that were true Salazar would be rolling in his grave, "and my grandparents were in Slytherin," same thing. "As far down my maternal tree says, they've all been in Slytherin." If all of that was true Slytherin just might rise from the dead to kill himself. Muggles in Slytherin house? What a laugh.

"What about your father's side?"

"Except for him, they've all been Slytherins too."

"Yeah, yeah, you keep saying they're all Slytherins, like that's the only thing we want to hear," sneered Pansy. "Whom are you _related_ to, huh? If we can't recognize your name then maybe we'll recognize some relatives."

"My father's related to the Selwyns…" Tani trailed off.

"Your father's related to the Selwyns! Holy cow, I thought there were only a few of them left!" said a random Slytherin.

"Aren't they extinct in the male line?"

"That's probably why his name has changed…"

"The Selwyns are related to nearly every pureblood family in the UK!"

"You dolt, nearly all the families are related to each other."

The entire house kept bickering back and forth and all Vitani could do was stare. She was grateful, but also saddened, that she had to bring up her father's purity at all. Her adopted father was a pureblood, and was in fact one of the last few of the male Selwyns. This worked well in her favor in these kinds of situations; they didn't know she was adopted and hopefully never would, but she hated to bring up purity at all. In her mind the distinction could not be made between her father and her mother. They were both human; did anything else really matter?

Which led to the second reason she did not want to bring up her father. Pureblood or not, the Slytherins detested those who strayed away from the pure path and mingled with muggles. Her father was one of them, she was too; both of them would be called 'blood traitors'. If the others knew this it wouldn't matter that he was a Selwyn. They would round on her so fast she wouldn't survive. Before anything like that happened, she needed to prepare. She didn't want her family to get hurt because of her. Hopefully, Pansy would not try to search for her mother's family.

Vitani looked up at the clock and was shocked to see three hours had gone by since the feast had suddenly ended. It was eleven thirty and the house was still fighting each other. Actually, it was really the rest of the house that was fighting Pansy; it seemed she had lost her popularity in the two months she'd been here.

Suddenly Crabbe toppled over as the common room door was shoved open, revealing a black-cloaked Snape to enter the room. He looked slightly pale; well, paler than usual and the bottom edge of his robes were wet. Despite it being his own house, he stood with a grimace as he cast his eyes around the room.

"I can understand," he began in his usual whisper, "that the combination of a Friday night and a troll invading the school may cause some excitement and talk," he began walking through the students to the fire place in the back of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "But what I can not understand," his voice rose in volume as he turned to them, "is why it must make you so loud that the entire castle can hear you!" he snapped. "I'm sure you dunderheads have a clear agenda for tomorrow but I do not. I, like many others, wish to sleep tonight!"

"B-but sir, we weren't talking about the troll, we were talking about Vitani," coward Pansy.

"Has Miss DeVera caused some kind of trouble?"

"Well, no…"

"Then there's no need to be concerned, is there?" he retorted.

Snape began to walk out of the room when Pansy called back to him.

"Professor!"

"What _is_ it Miss Parkinson?" he stressed.

"Have there ever been any other DeVeras in the school before?"

Oh no, here it was, proof her family was not all she said it to be. One contradiction from Snape and she was done for.

"Yes, a girl by the name of Roxanne DeVera, I presume to be your older sister," he nodded toward Vitani. "She was a gifted student, though she couldn't brew anything for her life. Still, she was very… intriguing," and he chuckled.

This shocked Vitani very much. Snape had just complimented her sister, her sister that was in _Ravenclaw_ and he said it with a smile. Not a sneer, or a smirk or a nasty expression, a genuine _smile._ And he laughed! When the hell did hell freeze over?

"Are you satisfied Miss Parkinson?" his temper had returned. "If you are, then you can all head to bed, or suffer my… displeasure."

"Quickly the student trooped into their dormitories, with only Vitani left behind. Snape began to leave again, but was stopped _again_, this time by Vitani.

"Professor Snape?"

"Yes," he sighed, turning.

"You knew my sister…"

"I taught your sister."

"And you… um, were intrigued by her, even though she was in Ravenclaw?" He had not mentioned this to the other Slytherins and she was grateful for it.

"Yes. She had a very interesting personality. I believe all the teachers were fond of her."

He paused, then without saying anything else, he left the common room for his office.

Vitani stayed in the common room for a moment, thinking. Then she joined the others in their dormitory. She undressed, put on her pajamas, and settled down with one thought on her mind for tomorrow. She was going to write a letter, a letter to her sister and hopefully she would have some advice and some answers.


	13. Why Can't We Play Checkers?

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.**

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The next day she spent her breakfast wolfing down eggs and waiting for the post to arrive. When Selvi and the other owls came, she quickly untied the small letter from Selvi's leg and tied her own letter on. It would probably take Selvi a while before she came back. Before that happened however, Vitani was going to investigate something she had been meaning to do for some time.

Today was the first match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Everyone would be outside in the stands watching and this gave her plenty of opportunity to investigate the third floor corridor. She had forgotten about it, but was reminded of her midnight adventure when she had talked to Harry yesterday in Herbology. Apparently, Harry had walked into the staff room intent on retrieving a book only to see Snape with a bloody and mangled leg being tended to by Filch. Immediately suspicious, Vitani planned to once and for all reveal the treasure hidden in the third corridor.

She walked with everyone as they filed out of the Great Hall, but turned into a little corner and watched all the houses pass by. When everyone was outside, she climbed the stairs to the third floor, and looked out a corridor window out to the field. The crowd was filled with red, black and green robed students, either neutral to or supporting a team. In a few minutes, the players would come out and the game would begin.

She traveled through the unusually quiet castle, silent so as not to alert any one still in the castle. She was fairly certain that everyone with the exception of the ghosts was gone, but she didn't need any other unsuspecting person to track her. She wound her way up and down and around the castle, until she felt no one was following her and she headed toward the third floor corridor.

She stood in front of the door, wand at the ready, taking deep breaths. She took from her robe pocket a small ocarina, and unlocked the door. Immediately the dog snap to its feet but Vitani had the ocarina to her mouth and blew a few notes. She knew from her sister's experience that the beast would calm, and as the notes left the instrument the dog fell back into a deep slumber. She kept playing as she past the beast, using her wand to lift the heavy trap door up. She peered over the side only to see darkness.

She took her lips off the ocarina a moment to spit into the pit. She continued to play faintly as she listened to any splat or splash the spit might make.

Four… seven…ten. Ten seconds, which meant the pit was approximately…carry the two… five hundred meters.

_Damn _she thought, _thank god for extendable rope._

She pulled rope from her pocket that kept coming and coming and began to loop it on the latch of the trap door. It was very slow going, as she could only use one hand and her feet, but eventually she had a tight triple knot on the latch. She sat down near the edge of the pit with her legs dangling over, tied the other end of the rope around herself, put on gloves and finally began to lower herself down. With the music gone the dog growled and woke, but she was too far down to reach.

The gloves were resistant to wear so she could slip down the rope in spurts as she descended. On and on she went down, careful to never completely let go, until the little light from the chamber above had faded completely. With zero light she could not see any dangers lurking below her. She stopped and spit again; this time it was three hundred meters deep. On and on she went, contemplating the dangers below and any possible solutions, when she finally remembered she had her wand. Holding on with one hand she took her wand and said "Lumos."

The point of her wand brightened, lighting the darkened pit several feet down. She placed the wand in her mouth and proceeded down, going faster with the comfort of sight. After a minute or so, she could finally see the bottom; it was a dark green in color and it looked almost… squishy. Was it moss, or some other plant?

A foot from the bottom, she stretched her toes to touch the ground. The reaction was immediate; shooting from the ground were long thick vines with thorns that made a grab for her leg. She pulled her self up the rope, but lost her shoe in the process. The vines continued to wave in the air for a moment, searching for any other limb of hers before the vines sucked back into the green carpet of a plant.

_What the hell is that thing? It looks like it came right out of the Little Shop of Horrors. Damnit, how am I supposed to get down now? Think, think, this is obviously a magical plant. Herbology, Herbology… nope, I got nothing._

This was a plant Professor Sprout had probably yet to teach them about. Still, she had to remember something from her books, anything that might help her.

_Magic or not, most plants that live in the dark don't like light. Maybe…_

She slowly lowered herself down to a foot and pointed her lit wand toward the plant. It seemed to pale and retract slightly, but did not move away. She would need something more powerful.

_I need fire. But Flitwick didn't teach us the spell yet, probably because he doesn't want the Slytherins learning any real pyrotechnics. What was the incantation? Incenrito…no… incend-incedio Incendio!_

"Incendio!" she said, and a small burst of flames fired from her wand. The flame petered out before it could do any real damage.

_Not good enough._

"INCENDIO!" and the flames shot down, hard and hot, and the plant seemed to jump out of the way to a corner in the room. She jumped down, untied herself and ran from the cowering plant down the one stone passage. It was not long before she could hear the fluttering sounds of new, possibly more dangerous creatures. Ahead she saw a brilliant light, and found herself in a great high ceiling chamber. The room was cylindrical, with a tornado of birds circling above. Across the chamber was an oak door.

_They're not attacking, _she thought as she crossed toward the door, looking up at the swirl of birds. They were all very shiny, even metallic looking.

Vitani attempted to pull the door open. It didn't budge. She tried "Alohomora". It didn't unlock. She tried a pin and needle from her kit she had gotten several years ago. Nothing. In a last desperate act, she backed up a few spaces and tried to kick the door down. It actually splintered a bit, but from the sound the door made it was _thick, _too thick for a few good kicks to break down.

_How humiliating- being stopped by a stupid wood door._

She sat with her back to the door, looking up at the swirl of birds in the air. But they weren't birds they were keys! What kind of person would bewitch keys to fly in the air?

_I feel like I'm in some kind of video game._

She looked down and spotted a broken piece of stone floor. Taking the rock, she chucked it into the mass of feathered keys. A few clangs later the rock came down with two or three keys following it, no longer able to stay airborne with broken wings. She picked up the keys and tried them in the door. Nothing.

She looked around the ceiling, trying to spot any unique keys in the flurry, but the mass was too thick and they were all moving too swiftly. When she looked down from the ceiling she spotted a few brooms laying near the entrance of the chamber. How had she not noticed those earlier?

She grabbed a broom and flew into the cloud of keys. They circled her, but did nothing to threaten her. Most of the keys looked to be small silver keys, nothing that would seem to reach back into the long lock of the door. She watched carefully as the keys passed her, trying to resist the vertigo she felt. Every once in awhile she would spot a few blackened keys, ones that looked much older and would match the lock below. She waited, tracking the blackened keys as they flew around. Then, with a burst of speed, she shot herself into the ring, snagging a long black key from the fray.

She zoomed down to the door and shoved the key in. She heard the clicks of the first four tumblers turn, but the fifth was stuck. She tried again; she pulled on the door and turned, she pushed on the door and turned, she jiggled the knob and turned…nothing.

She looked up again into the cloud, seeing specks of black in the loop of silver above her. She floated back up and repeated the process on the remaining black keys. Sometimes she was successful, sometimes she nearly smacked into the wall, but after twenty minutes or so the remaining four black keys were hers. She glanced at her watch as she floated to the door. Two hours had gone by since she left the Great Hall. It was possible the match was still going but she couldn't be sure.

The first two keys turned only the first tumbler, the third key didn't even fit in the lock, but the fourth key, a slender, ancient looking key with blue wings, easily slid in and turned in the lock like butter. The door opened into an even larger stone chamber with a raised floor. She lifted herself up to stand next to huge stone chess pieces on a black and white tiled floor. Across the checkered floor was another oak door, she took a step towards it and was blocked by the arm of the massive black queen that stood in front of her. Several other statues shifted in front of her. She looked up into the faceless statue then back at the door.

"I have to play across," she said, not a question. The faceless queen nodded.

Now she was in a pickle.

Vitani had never taken an interest in chess. She excelled at checkers, was solid in Candy Land and Uncle Wiggly, but not chess. The closest she had ever come to playing chess was a Japanese variant called shogi. She was in love with that game and there were a few similarities to chess, but not enough for her to play well. She was stuck by a stupid board game. Damn.

She sat near the edge of the board contemplating her options. She could not play across the board; the stone weapons that they carried could easily knock her down and possibly kill her. She could not side step the pieces, both sides would attack her rather than just the white pieces. It seemed the only option was to turn back and start over another day.

When she left the chess chamber the light vanished from the room, and she could hear the stone statues shift to stand straight again. She passed through the key room, the keys she had captured now weakly flying with the others. She sent a jet of fire toward the plant, retrieved her shoe, and began climbing. Now she had gravity working against her; she used the time to contemplate her next actions.

She was screwed if anyone saw her coming from the third corridor. Five hours had passed since the match began and by now it would be over. She would have to be extremely cautious and try to listen to any activity outside the corridor door. It didn't help having Akane gone; Vitani had decided it would be better to have Akane, as Vitani, watch the game so as to not arouse suspicions, but now she was regretting that decision.

There was also the matter of what to do later. Her first goal was to obviously learn chess. Where and how she did not know; she couldn't wait to go home and ask someone or looking it up on the Internet. She could go to the library here, but she needed an expert's knowledge and guidance, not a textbook answer. She couldn't ask some average Joe either; if she messed up in the match with the stone statues the consequences would be… deadly. She would just have to search.

Her second plan of action was to wheedle any information out of Harry and company, as they seemed the most informative on the treasure hidden below. That would be easy; Harry and Ron would willingly hand over the information, Hermione not so much. She was still at odd ends with the girl. Hermione refused to accept that there might be someone equal or above her in intelligence. Vitani really didn't give a damn, which made Hermione all the more contemptuous at her lack of effort. She would need to side step her in order to get to Harry.

She could see the dim light of the beast chamber above her and took the ocarina from her pocket and gripped it with her teeth. After a moment she pulled herself up and simultaneously blew a note, making the dog droopy and drowsy. She played softly as she used her wand to wind up the rope. She put the rope in her pocket and slowly edged around the beast toward the door. She placed her ear against it and heard silence. She stood like that for a long while, and decided she would have to risk it.

She slowly opened and shut the door without a creak and edged away from the third corridor. She went down the adjacent hall and continued on, not meeting anyone in her path. She was far away from the forbidden corridor, walking down the third floor stairs when she finally came across someone. It was Professor Quirrell, looking even more nervous and jittery than usual. At the sight of her, he jumped backwards and nearly fell down the stairs in the process.

"M-m-m-miss D-DeVera! P-Pleasant surprise! I thought y-you would be en-n-njoying th-the feast down st-stairs."

"I forgot something in one of my classes," she shrugged, "I went to get it when the match was over." It was already dinner? Wow, she needed to keep better track of time. Lucky everyone was eating though.

"T-t-to b-bad for S-slytherin, huh? B-but you'll do b-better n-next time."

"Aren't you coming to dinner, Professor?"

"N-no, I've already h-had dinner, j-j-just getting s-s-some early sh-shut eye."

"I thought your office was on the second floor," she said, suspicious.

"O-o-o-oh, s-silly me! I-I've had s-such a tiring d-day, c-can't even f-find my way b-b-back t-to my own office! I-I-I'll be g-going n-now," he stuttered, quickly turning around and fleeing down the steps. She watched him stumble on the last step, catch the railing and quickly walk down the hall.

She stood there for a moment, waiting to see if he might come back, but her stomach had other ideas. It made its presence know with a loud grumble and she began walking down the stairs again. She did not enter the Great Hall, Akane was still in there being Vitani, and so she went down to the dungeons and straight to the kitchens. Having skipped lunch, she had two large servings of chicken, potatoes, carrots and two large buttery rolls. Though her brain protested, the elves and her stomach persuaded her to try the treacle and new fudge cake they had made.

Thoroughly fattened, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room, hoping no one was there. She was lucky yet again, and went to wait in one of the armchairs near the fire. In all the time spent traversing the challenges below, she hadn't realized how cold she'd been and the fire was very soothing. Soon the portrait swung open and people began entering the room. A few minutes went by, and finally Harry, Ron and Hermione had come.

"Nice game Harry, great job with the Snitch," she said, having not the slightest idea of what had happened during the game.

"Nothing like swallowing the whole ball to win a match," Ron chuckled.

_He swallowed the ball? What devotion._

"Oh, be quiet," said Harry, though he was grinning.

"By the way," Ron continued, "you should have seen what your favorite teacher was doing to Harry during the match."

"If you mean Snape, he isn't my favorite teacher-"

"He lets you do whatever you want!"

"Whatever, what are you implying about Snape?"

"He was the one cursing Harry's broom!" whispered Hermione harshly.

"What?"_ What the hell did I miss?_

"I saw him doing it," Hermione grimaced, "he was cursing the broom, but when we told Hagrid afterwards he didn't believe us."

"He trusts the teachers too much. Snape hates me, but he won't accept it," said Harry.

"Guess what else we learned at Hagrid's," said Ron, placing chess pieces onto a board.

"Ron!" Hermione hushed him, "that's enough. She doesn't need to know."

"Come on Hermione, get over it. Vitani might even be able to help."

"Help with what?"

Ron leaned toward her, still placing the pieces on the board. "Hagrid let slip something to do about the treasure in the third floor corridor," he whispered. "Apparently that huge dog is his, he actually named it _Fluffy,_ and the treasure has something to do with some bloke named Nicholas Phlegmel."

"It's _Flamel,_ Ron," Hermione sighed. "Hagrid's not too good with secrets, and neither are you." She paused for a moment, and then turned to Vitani. "You wouldn't _happen_ to know anything, would you?"

"Oh, now you want her help," chided Ron.

Before the two could start bickering Harry asked, "Is there anything you know?"

_Flamel, Flamel; why does that name sound so familiar?_

"I recognize it more as a word than a name. I don't remember; I feel like I read it somewhere."

"That's what I thought too," said Harry, "but I haven't been able to think of anything."

"Well, I'm sure we'll find who he is in the library."

"Come on Hermione, how are we going to search the whole place, we don't even know what he's done!" groaned Ron.

"If you have any better ideas-"

"I have an idea," interrupted Vitani, staring at Ron, "you can teach me chess."

"Huh?"

"Teach me chess, you were going to teach Harry anyway, right?

"Yeah, but what does that have anything to do with-"

"When I go home," she interrupted again, "I'll look up Flamel on the Internet and send a letter to you guys."

"What's the internet?" asked Ron, highly confused.

"I'll explain it to you later," said Harry.

"I don't think Flamel would be on the Internet, Vitani," said Hermione. "He's a wizard; muggles wouldn't know about him."

"You'd be surprised by how much muggles know about the magical world; wizards don't give them enough credit. Besides, for some reason I think I read the name in a muggle book."

"Are you sure?"

"That's the one thing I'm positive about. It's strange, because there aren't too many famous people that overlap the two worlds."

"Well, you can look it up on this Internet thingy and then we'll have an advantage before Snape steals it," exclaimed Ron.

"What? You think Snape's trying to steal whatever's in the third floor corridor?"

"Ron!"

"Eh heh heh heh," Ron laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry Hermione."

"He was trying to get past Fluffy, so it makes sense that he's trying to steal whatever it is," said Harry.

For a moment, Vitani had a flashback to before dinner, when she had met Professor Quirrell on the stairs. Something just seemed off.

"I know he hates you Harry, there's no denying that, and he definitely is an arrogant arse, but for some reason I don't think it's him."

"You're just saying that because he's your head of house," scuffed Ron.

"I'm not, I really don't think it's him."

"How do you know?"

"I don't know, it's just a hunch, but my hunches tend to be right."

"Well, so long as Fluffy keeps doing his job, no ones going to get anywhere near the treasure," said Harry.

Ron and Hermione nodded their heads in agreement and Vitani did too, realizing inside that Fluffy wasn't that much of a deterrent as they thought him to be.

Hopefully she was the only one who knew this.


	14. Intruders

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi. Review!**

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A week or so later Vitani awoke to the castle completely covered in thick layers of snow. December was soon upon them, and everyone counted the days down to Christmas break. It was at this time that the first years learned that it was possible to stay at Hogwarts for the vacation. Professor McGonagall came around with a list for those who were staying. Vitani did not sign. She, missing her family and friends very much, rejoiced that she would be able to see them soon.

She was also happy in finding a chess teacher. Every night, while Akane slept as Vitani in her bed, she went up to the Gryffindor tower so Ron could teach her and Harry how to play chess. He would have them practice with each other because if either of them faced him, they would lose in the first ten turns. As the days counted down to Christmas they gradually got better, until one day Vitani just barely won against Ron. She was ecstatic, but she had had to sacrifice a lot of pieces; she would need a more efficient tactic to beat the statues down stairs.

On their down time, the trio went to the library in order to find information about Flamel. Vitani did not join them, she was absolutely certain that she had heard the name as a word, not a name and that it had nothing to do with the wizarding world. The problem was that this was the only information she knew; it was on the very tip of her tongue yet she just couldn't figure it out. After spending an hour in the Slytherin common room staring at the fire thinking, she gave up and decided that it would eventually come to her.

The vacation this year started officially on Friday. The students leaving would depart Thursday afternoon, the last lesson ending early. It was Wednesday of this week that something seemed off. Vitani woke in her bed; she had not stayed with the Gryffindors since Ron had decided to not teach them the last few days before break. She got dressed and headed out to breakfast. It was in the Great Hall that the weirdness began.

She was sitting at the Slytherin table eating when she felt eyes on her back. She turned her head to see the vast number of students eating and talking. No one was staring at her. She continued to eat when she felt the sensation again. She completely turned herself around on the bench, her back to the table, staring out into the sea of students. She took a bite of her apple as she carefully watched the other tables.

"What are looking at Vitani?" asked Daphne, taking a bite from her pear.

"I'd like to know that myself," she answered. "I think someone was staring at me. Or I could be paranoid, I don't really know."

"Don't worry so much, it's almost Christmas!" exclaimed Nott. "We all get to go home and relax with our families."

"It's such a shame," began Malfoy in a loud sneering tone of voice, "that some of us won't get to have that pleasure, being unwanted and all."

Some of the Slytherins chuckled, knowing that it was a jibe meant for Harry. Vitani grimaced.

"It beats being ousted from the castle. I hear the teachers can't wait to be rid of your loud, bodacious mouth, Malfoy," she smirked.

Daphne, Nott and a few other Slytherins laughed at this, but Malfoy and Pansy were not amused.

"What's your problem DeVera?" snapped Pansy.

"I don't have a problem, just speaking fact."

"You've got a lot of nerve DeVera," glared Malfoy. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Why, did you forget?"

They laughed harder.

"The Malfoy's are a very powerful and influential family, you don't want to get on the wrong side of us," huffed Malfoy.

"Yeah, they're _real_ powerful; nothing like hiding behind bags of money to make you look superior. By the way, how's your auntie in Azkaban? Guess your family couldn't pull the strings on that one, huh?"

The table was silent, everyone staring at Draco, who was red in the face with rage.

"Don't you dare badmouth my family, DeVera!"

"You do it to everyone else; I'm just joining the fun."

"I do it to people who deserve it."

"Oh, and _you_ don't?"

The more she spoke, the more his pale face blotched up, becoming a lovely tomato red. It made her smirk all the more.

"You're headed for trouble DeVera."

"I'm quaking in my shoes, Malfoy."

"My family is-"

"My family this, my family that. Malfoy, your family isn't worth shit to me. I really don't give a damn _who_ they are or _what_ they've done. If any of them are half as much of an arse that you are, then they aren't really worth the attention."

Malfoy sat there, trying to come up with a response, but ended up muttering nonsense. Vitani stood from the table, picking up her bag, and made her way to Charms, leaving the other Slytherins behind.

She hadn't been certain about who had been staring at her during breakfast, but she was certain now. For the rest of the day her fellow first years stared at her back and whispered with each other during class and the older Slytherins stared as they walked through the halls. Sometimes she heard Malfoy muttering menacingly to his lackeys, plotting against her, but she didn't care. The strangest reaction by far was Daphne's. She gawked rather than then glared. Sometimes Vitani caught her giggling while looking at Malfoy. She never looked disgusted or mad at Vitani. It intrigued her.

She went about the day as she usually did, now with the death glares of the Slytherins, when she noticed something else peculiar. Sometimes she would walk through a door way and bump into someone, but when she turned to apologize the person had disappeared. At random times in between lessons, she heard muffled chuckling and laughter, but could not identify the source. As the day went on her paranoia skyrocketed to the point where she was constantly whipping her neck around to see behind her. If she wasn't careful she was going to snap her own neck.

While she searched for people that didn't seem to exist, she kept hearing about others finding those who weren't supposed to exist. During charms that day she had overheard two Ravenclaws discussing about some new kids they'd seen in class. From what she heard they were first year Hufflepuffs, except she had just had a class with the Hufflepuffs and she did not recognize anyone new. The same thing happened during break in the library. She was in the history section, looking for a book for her paper due after break, when she overheard some second year Gryffindors talking. Apparently there were new kids in their class too, but they were Ravenclaws.

The last she heard of this phenomenon was during Herbology. A few of the Hufflepuffs had gathered in a corner of the room, and were discussing something an older Hufflepuff had told them. Third year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had had Potions today, and of course, Snape had favored the Slytherins. He especially boasted about a brilliant Confusion Concoction made by a Slytherin they had never seen before. Snape was a bit puzzled as well, but passed it off as one of those quiet spoken, no name students that was only just standing out.

Vitani thought this information was quite startling. How could the teachers not recognize that these kids were probably intruders, especially Snape? Was he so blinded by favoritism that he would pass off something so suspicious? Maybe they really were just new, but why so many at one time, without an introduction?

She pondered this on her way to dinner, while the people around her talked about the last day of term tomorrow. She glanced around the Great Hall at all the excited students, seeing if she could spot any unfamiliar faces. The problem was, there were plenty of those, all belonging to older students. It was at the Ravenclaw table that she did recognize someone, two familiar faces with their heads down, intent on their dinner. One had long silvery hair that cascaded down her back, the other short, brown hair and bespectacled eyes. She got up from the table, Malfoy still glaring at her, Daphne curious, as she walked toward the Ravenclaw table. Students from other tables looked up as she passed.

_It couldn't be them, there's no way they could have gotten here. _But she was wrong.

She put a hand on each of their shoulders and spun them around. She was faced with a wide-eyed Linus, his mouth stuffed with apple pie, and a smirking Emmelia, daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"The jig is up Linus, we've been caught."

Linus gave a huge swallow of his pie, and then belched. "It's about time. Geez."

"What the hell are you two doing here?" she said, gaining the attention of the Ravenclaws.

"We snuck in."

"Like ninjas."

"How?"

"We've been planning this for months, ever since you left for this place," Linus said, waving his hand around the room. "It just took us awhile to get the plan down pat."

"Risky but worth it," nodded Emmelia.

"_How?"_ Vitani stressed.

"We told you, we snuck in like ninjas."

"With your dad's cloak," Emmelia added.

"_What?"_

"He let us borrow it, he's been in a very giving mood lately."

"_What?!"_

"And we've been jumping from class to class, you know, just chillin' in the background."

"We went to a Charms class, Potions, Herbology-"

"And History of Magic, oh, it was so terrible, Vitani!" cried Emmelia. "It was the worst history lesson I ever sat through! It didn't do the subject any justice; I nearly broke down crying on the floor."

"We met Flitwick, he's awesome; he showed us this fire charm-"

"And this huge man was blocking one of the halls, he looked like a giant! But he was really nice to us-"

"And we met Snape!"

"Oh my gosh, we met Snape, and we were Slytherins at the time-"

"And I made this potion, right? A really good one-"

"And he gave Linus twenty points to the Slytherin house, and we're muggles!"

"We were laughing hysterically afterwards, he's just like you said he was."

"Wait, _wait_, _wait_. You snuck in with my father's invisibility cloak, walked into and participated in classes, pretended you were from multiple houses, got Snape to award you points and got free meals all without any of the teachers or other students recognizing you."

"Yep," they said.

Vitani became all teary eyed. "I am so proud of you." She almost broke down, half laughing and half crying while Emmelia and Linus laughed at her. By now, the entire school and staff were watching them.

"My God, how did you switch between houses?" she breathed out, trying to calm down.

"The same as you did. We bought these ties at the store-" from her sleeve Emmelia pulled out three different colored striped ties and pointed to the one around her neck, "-so we could switch them as we walked to different classes."

"But how did you participate? You can't use magic."

"Now here's a story worth telling," said Linus. "We were in Diagon Alley with your parents and we passed by a sign in Ollivander's that said he was selling wand shells."

"Wand what?"

"Wand shells; it's like a wand without the core, just the wood. They use them to repair ancient family wands or something. Anyway, because they're just wood, they were really cheap, 'cause the core is the most expensive part of the wand. So we bought them and some handles and started experimenting with them."

Emmelia and Linus pulled two wands from their sleeves. Linus' was an aspen wand, about twelve inches long; Emmelia's was a walnut wand, ten and a half inches.

"You can unscrew the handle-," said Emmelia, unscrewing the handle, "-and put in a different cartridge depending on what kind of spell you want the wand to do. And then you put the handle back on, push this little button here-" she pointed to a small notch in the handle of the wand, "-and say the incantation at the same time."

"Aguamenti!" said Linus, and a small stream of water shot from the wand. It was short lived; a few seconds later the water stopped flowing and the tip of the wand began to drip.

"This one had a pressurized CO2 cartridge push out a jet of water," explained Linus as he unscrewed the handle and showed her the tiny cartridge. "I made these specifically for the wands, 'cause they don't make CO2 cartridges this small." He pulled out a few more cartridges from his robe pocket.

"This one shoots out multicolored sparks. It was really hard making this one; it kept lighting the wand on fire. This one," he said, taking a thin metallic rod attached to a bundle of magnets, "runs up the wand to the tip and when you put this little band," he pulled out a tiny, ring like band from his pocket, "on to something light, like a feather, you can make it levitate."

"This one shoots out bubbles, this one smoke, this one has a little paper flower pop out of the end…" listed Emmelia, pointing to each cartridge in turn. "Oh and this one you'll like."

She put a little cartridge with something white sticking out of it into the handle and screwed the handle onto the wand. Then she waved the wand and pushed the button and a tiny pole stuck out and a little white flag unfurled with the word 'BANG!' written in bright red letters.

"Hah! These are great, you should sell these."

"We actually made three, and a million cartridges and gave them to Mr. Ollivander," said Linus.

"Did he like it?"

"We gave it to him in the morning and then passed by the shop again around three; he was still playing with it."

"You know you've made something impressive if a wand maker likes it," nodded Emmelia.

"But you guys still haven't answered my question of how you got here."

"We took the train."

"What?"

"It still runs for other witches and wizards to other stations, so we took the train from Kings Cross to Hogsmeade and then walked."

"So you'll be going back the same way then," came a strict voice from behind.

Finally the staff had come to investigate; Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Dumbledore were standing behind Vitani, all the students' eyes on them. Flitwick and Sprout looked curious at the two muggle children, McGonagall's mouth was a thin straight line, and every so often Snape's eye would twitch. Dumbledore however looked as jolly as ever, beaming at the three children. It was McGonagall who had spoken.

"Ah, you see, about that," began Linus, "we kinda, sorta, don't have anywhere to go."

"You'll go home of course," snapped McGonagall.

"But there's no one there."

"They went away with the DeVera's," added Emmelia.

"What?" screeched Vitani. "Why did they leave?!"

"That's the second reason why we're here, besides proving that we could break in," said Linus. "Tani, your mum's pregnant."

"_**WHAT?!"**_ she screeched so loud it rang around the hall. "For how long!?"

"Well, she only just found out yesterday-"

"So she's only a few weeks along?"

"Well, I wouldn't say a few."

"How many?"

"Six-"

"Weeks?"

"Months."

"…_**SHE'S BEEN PREGNANT FOR SIX MONTHS AND SHE ONLY JUST FOUND OUT NOW!?"**_

"Hey! Don't shoot the messenger!"

"Oh my Gandalf, that means she was three months along when I left!"

"She really didn't start to show until the end of November. She just woke up one day with a bulge, thought it was fat, and went on with the rest of her day."

"But how could she not notice her non-existent period?"

"Your mum's really intelligent, but sometimes she just isn't observant," said Emmelia.

"Only about herself, she notices everything except herself," Vitani sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"Mum's pregnant, mum's pregnant… Wait, she's _pregnant!?"_

"Okay Vitani, now you're just scaring me," sighed Linus.

"But this, this is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe it! I didn't think she could get pregnant, I mean-"

"What do you mean Vitani? How do you think you were born?"

The three friends, staff and students turned to look at the new addition to the party, Daphne, who had joined them while they were talking. Vitani looked at her for a moment, thinking about what she was about to say next. _I guess they have to find out eventually._

"I'm adopted, Daphne."

"Huh?"

"Wait a minute," came Pansy from behind the teachers, pushing past, "-didn't you say you came from a family of purebloods?"

"Yes."

"But you're not related to them."

"I am, to use your supremacist terminology, a pureblood. I do not live with my biological… creators."

"What happened to them?" murmured Daphne.

"They were killed."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Vitani."

"I'm not."

The temperature in the Great Hall seemed to drop, and the room darkened as the moonlit ceiling clouded. They all remained silent.

"Ahem, I believe we were discussing these two's living predicament," said Dumbledore quietly, breaking the silence.

"Um… yeah," Linus mumbled lamely, "so, when they heard the news, your parents got really excited and went to Italy to see your mum's family, and they brought our parents too." He turned to Dumbledore and pulled out a note from his pocket. "This is from Mr. DeVera and our parents."

Dumbledore took the parchment from Linus and began to read. The room stayed silent. As his eyes ran down the paper, Dumbledore's frown deepened and his brow puckered. Finally he looked up, his face grave.

"This is very, very serious."

The silence was deafening.

"We don't have any extra beds for these two."

The Weasley twins burst into hysterics. The tension completely melted away from the room.

"I suppose we could duplicate some, put them up in a dormitory."

"Professor Dumbledore, you can't possibly let this breech be allowed!" protested McGonagall.

"On the contrary, Minerva, I think these two should be rewarded. It takes a lot of courage to come into a place unknown, with such devotion to their friend. And it is the holidays."

McGonagall's mouth became even thinner, and now both of Snape's eyes were twitching, but Dumbledore's word was final. They would be allowed to stay.

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**Hi. This may seem to cut off early. Sorry, it was getting too long. Please review, love or hate, it doesn't matter. More Slytherin drama and Christmas next time.**


	15. Qualities

**Calculus and Bio midterm OVER! Hell yeah!**

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi. Review!**

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Professor Snape waited outside the common room with Linus and Emmelia as Vitani packed a pair of pajamas and toiletries. The rest of the Slytherins sat in the common room, watching her go back and forth in the room gathering her things and putting them in the same small bag she'd had with her on the train. They didn't protest or glare, they didn't beg or frown; they sat there stock still, apparently still shell shocked at their discovery.

There had been a short discussion between Dumbledore and the house heads in the Great Hall, deciding where to put Vitani's friends. Slytherin common room was vetoed outright, Ravenclaw was a bit wary of the unknown children, but Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were happy to accommodate them. It was decided that they would be staying with the Gryffindors for their time here, as they seemed the most enthusiastic about having Vitani's friends in their midst. For their comfort, Dumbledore suggested that Vitani also stay with the Gryffindors so her friends would not be alone. Snape looked neutral at this, but it was a calm kind of neutral. The Slytherins looked stony-faced.

When she gathered her things, Vitani exited, the Slytherins still watching her, and made her way with Linus and Emmelia toward Gryffindor tower. As the open wall closed behind her, the Slytherin common room erupted.

"What the hell was that?"

"How could she have gotten into Slytherin being like that?"

"She's a mudblood lover!"

"What a disgrace."

"How can she say that about her parents?"

"She lied to all of us."

"Bitch."

"Blood traitor."

"You were right all along Pansy."

"I was, wasn't I?" smirked Pansy, utterly ecstatic at this newfound knowledge. Everyone was back on her side now. "Guess you guys should've listened to me after all."

"We'll never doubt you again, Pansy," gushed Tracey, and the other first year girls looked admiringly at her.

"So how do we fix this?" said a large boy with crooked teeth, Marcus Flint.

"Yeah, she can't stay in this house."

"Let's trash her stuff," Malfoy smiled evilly.

"Wait! You guys can't do that!"

All the Slytherins turned to see little Daphne standing, puffing her chest out and jutting her jaw up in defiance.

"Oh, are you defending her, Greengrass?" sneered Millicent. "Guess you're on her side too."

"No, I mean, she's one of us, you can't just-"

"One of _us?_" cut in Tracey, "you didn't just say that blood traitor was one of _us._ That mudblood lover, she's been lying to our faces since the first day, but you defend her!"

"She's been trouble from the beginning; she never sits with the table, she doesn't cheer for the team, she always a show off-" began Malfoy.

"Last week you guys were boasting about her because of that," retorted Daphne, "so happy that there was someone who could show up Granger."

"She's friends with Granger!" screeched Pansy, "I've seen them talking together in the library! She can't stay here, the hat obviously made a mistake."

"Now hold on a minute," Farley interjected, as Korn broke up the mob surrounding Daphne, "you guys are getting out of hand."

"Oh shut it, Farley."

"Detention, Bilks," she said calmly, and turned to the other Slytherins. "The Sorting Hat has never misplaced a student and it hasn't now. If it says Vitani is in Slytherin, then that's that."

"Farley, you can't be serious-"

"The next person to interrupt me gets a week of detention scrubbing the bed pans in the hospital wing, _without magic,"_ she snapped. The room quieted instantly.

"Daphne and I will be taking the rest of DeVera's things to her, as you all can't be trusted. Korn is going to watch you. Word to the wise, his grades are top notch in DADA, so I wouldn't try anything," she glanced at Malfoy and Flint. "Then, I'm going to drop off her stuff at the Gryffindor tower and _maybe_, I'll talk to Snape about this… issue."

Farley grabbed Daphne's arm and pulled her into the girl's dormitory. Korn stood to cover the door, crossing his arms, his wand in hand. The Slytherins stared at his stony face for a while, and then turned to each other.

"This can't be happening."

"I'm not satisfied with this."

"Enough talking," toned Korn, "Farley will talk to Snape. Whether DeVera puts on the hat again won't matter, she'll still end up in this house. Get over it."

"Don't you even care that she's nothing like us?" asked Flint.

"Trust me Flint, no one wants to be like you," said a gangly boy named Terence Higgs.

"Watch it _Higgles_, you don't have to be Seeker."

"Like you could find someone better."

"Merlin, you lot are annoying," sighed Farley as she exited the dormitory, Daphne trailing behind. "I'm leaving; you lot get to bed. If I see anyone other than Korn in this room when I come back, you'll all pay."

In the Gryffindor tower, the common room had been turned into a campout. Not wanting to be separated, the trio had requested simple sleeping bags rather than beds in the dormitories. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Fred and George joined them. They were now all spread out around the fireplace roasting bits of food the twins had gotten from the kitchen.

"This is nice," said Neville.

"Yeah."

"We'll have to go to bed soon, we still have school tomorrow," said Hermione.

"Relax, it's only 10:30," yawned Ron.

"Vitani, can we join you in class tomorrow?" asked Emmelia.

"I suppose you should. Who knows what chaos you two will cause in your boredom."

"Nice go with the wands by the way," said George.

"Very impressive," nodded Fred.

They sat there quietly, drowsy from this evening's dinner, every once and awhile pulling their toasting forks from the fire and blowing on the food. While they were finishing off the muffins and bread a knock came from the portrait hole.

"It's Gemma Farley," she said loudly through the wall. "I need to speak with DeVera."

"We're not here right now," began Linus in a sing-song voice, "but leave a message after the beep and we'll get back to you."

"I'm sure that's some muggle reference I don't get," said Farley. "Listen, I'm here with DeVera's stuff, the other Slytherins were trying to trash it earlier."

"Vitani, are you there?" came the voice of Daphne through the wall.

"Fat Lady, open up, they won't come in," said Fred.

The portrait swung forward and the first thing the group saw was a small trunk squeezing through the portrait hole. When it finally went through, Farley and Daphne's faces appeared.

"You're in a lot of trouble with the others DeVera," grimaced Farley, "I'm sure they're all plotting against you in the dormitories right now."

"They want Gemma to take you to Professor Snape," said Daphne. "They want you to try the Sorting Hat on again."

"Do they honestly believe the hat will say anything different from what it said the first time?" asked Emmelia.

Daphne frowned, either from not knowing the answer or having a muggle talk to her, Vitani did not know.

"More than that, I think they want her to get in trouble with Snape," began Farley, "Apparently they think he'll be able to do something about it, or she will no longer be his favorite or something."

"Well that's not bloody likely, considering she could be in a third year potions class if she really wanted to. She's a potions prodigy, Snape's dream come true," said Linus.

Farley shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just doing this to appease them," she turned to Vitani, "I'm taking you to Snape after the last lesson; you and I are the only Slytherins staying so there won't be such a big fuss. Whatever happens, the other Slytherins won't know until the end of break."

"Alright," Vitani sighed.

"Has something like this ever happened before, that someone is misplaced in a house?" asked Hermione.

Farley thought for a moment, "I don't think you can be misplaced in a house. A lot of the personality traits the hat lists during its song can be applied to many of the houses, like loyalty is shared by Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, and cunning can be argued between Slytherin and Ravenclaw," she paused. "DeVera has many of the qualities of Slytherin house, but not the prejudice views of many of the students. That's the main reason they think she doesn't belong."

"Do you share those views Gemma?"

She shrugged, "I don't really care; I'm a Slytherin prefect, I care for the house more than the idiots in it." Daphne looked up at Farley curiously.

"Remember, tomorrow after the last lesson."

"I got it."

The two Slytherins left the view of the portrait hole and the Fat Lady swung shut. Vitani stood and grabbed her trunk from the floor and opened it. Rustling in the clothing was cat-Akane, who jumped out and curled in Emmelia's lap.

"It seems, for the time being, I've been expelled from Slytherin."

"It would be cool if the hat placed you in Gryffindor though," said Ron. "Your more suited for this house anyway."

"Am I? I don't know if I want to leave Slytherin house."

"But you're always complaining about them," said Harry.

"I don't know."

"I know why you don't want to leave Slytherin," chuckled Linus.

"Oh really?"

"You don't want to leave because then you can't piss them all off whenever you do something 'against' them."

Vitani smiled. "You might be right about that."

The next day started off well enough. They woke in the common room, rolled up their sleeping bags and put them in the corner of the room. When they went down for breakfast, the trio sat at the Gryffindor table. Vitani looked at the Slytherins and thought she felt a large rift between her and them; the room heavy with tension. When she got up for Transfiguration, Linus and Emmelia followed, the first year Slytherins walking far behind them.

Today the Slytherins had class with the Hufflepuffs. When Professor McGonagall asked a question to the class, Emmelia and Linus were the only ones to know the answer. Vitani didn't bother to raise her hand; it was funnier to watch McGonagall look around the room before being forced to pick one of them. After answering five of her questions correctly, McGonagall smiled slightly; they were growing on her.

After Transfiguration was History of Magic, which Emmelia and Linus both skipped. They joined her for lunch, this time at the Ravenclaw table; some of the students asking about the fake wands they made. The Ravenclaws walked with them to DADA, where Quirrell was acting even more jittery than usual. He wouldn't call on either Linus or Emmelia, but he would glance at them strangely. Every time this happened he would wince and clutch the back of his turban. Be it from the wincing or seemingly increased paranoia, his speech was barely comprehensible today and the class left not knowing what they had just been taught.

The last class of the day was Potions with the Gryffindors. Upon entering the dungeon, Vitani immediately veered toward the table were Harry and company usually worked, placing her cauldron next to Neville's. The Slytherins took this with glares and directed their eyes towards Snape, silently begging him to do _something_. Snape, oblivious to their stares, prowled the class as usual. With Vitani near Neville, he felt much more comfortable, and easily made the Forgetfulness Potion they had been assigned. Though Snape still scoffed and sneered at the Gryffindors work, he did not outright insult them as Vitani was there amongst them. The class ended fifteen minutes early, the tension in the room nearly absent from lack of insults and bursting holiday spirit.

As the students filed out of their classes, Professor McGonagall's voice magically echoed around the castle. "All students departing, please go to your dormitories and bring your belongings to the Entrance Hall. All students departing, please go to your dormitories and bring your belongings to the Entrance Hall."

As Vitani left the dungeons a group of girls shoved past her, nearly knocking her sideways. When she looked forward she saw Pansy and crew, giggling and snickering as they glanced back at her.

"That was rude."

Vitani looked next to her to see Daphne standing there.

"How come you're not with them?" she asked, arching a brow at Daphne.

"Why would I be?"

She stared at her for a moment and was about to respond when Farley came from behind her.

"Come on, I'm taking you to Snape now while everyone is getting their stuff. It'll be over and done with."

"Okay," she sighed and waved bye to Daphne as they walked back down the dungeon stairs.

Snape's office, like the Slytherin common room, was found in the twisting labyrinth of the dungeons. After a series of turns they ended up at an oak door with a silver snake-like knocker on the front. Farley knocked thrice and Snape's low voice said, "Enter."

They found him behind a large wood desk with a pile of papers next to him. The candles were low on their wicks; they cast an eerie glow on the shelves of books and potion ingredients. Snape put his quill back into a scarlet inkwell and looked up.

"Ah, Miss Farley and Miss DeVera, here to speak about the Sorting Hat I presume."

"Yes," said Farley. "How did you-"

"I've had four classes with my house today, all but the first years complaining to me about Miss DeVera. I'm sure the first years would have love to as well, but were unable, as you were in the room," he explained, looking at Vitani.

_Whatever. They can openly hate me if they want._

"I do not think that retrying the hat is necessary; it placed you in Slytherin, so you belong in Slytherin."

"Despite my non-supremacist views and "_unorthodox"_ friendships?"

"As I'm sure you remember, the hat did not sing about those qualities in its song."

_That's true._

"If _you_ believe that the hat misplaced you, I can ask the headmaster to re-administer the sorting, but I don't believe it'll make any difference.

Did it really matter if she tried on the hat again? Would it be stubborn and not re-sort her at all, or would it just come to the same conclusion? Wait…

_It never answered my question. Maybe now it will._

"I'd like to try the hat on again," the corners of Snape's lips sunk slightly, "if only to ask it a question," she quickly finished.

Snape stood from his desk and walked around, beckoning with his hand to follow him. From the office, through the dungeons and up the staircase, they followed him to Dumbledore's office. As they passed through the Entrance Hall, she saw several of her friends from the other houses wave at her, while the Slytherins smirked and sneered, thinking she was in trouble. Emmelia and Linus stood slightly aside, motioning to her that they would be in the Great Hall waiting for her.

Up to the first floor they turned into a corridor with a large gargoyle guarding an entrance. At the words, "lemon drop" the gargoyle moved aside to reveal a rising spiral stone staircase. Snape, Farley and Vitani stepped onto the stairs and ascended to Dumbledore's office. They stepped off to meet double oak doors. Before Snape could knock, the headmaster called, "Enter".

Snape opened the doors to a large circular office; filled with tall bookshelves, many portraits, strange silver objects and a large desk where Dumbledore was seated. He stood and walked toward a large perch on the side of the room, where a large scarlet peacock-like bird was resting. Stroking the bird, he asked, "And what do I owe the pleasure of you three?"

Snape nodded Farley forward. "There's been an issue within the Slytherin house, sir," she began. "The other Slytherins are concerned about Vitani DeVera's placement into the house."

"So I've heard. The whispering gets quite loud in the Great Hall."

"I told them, to appease them, that I would bring DeVera to try the Sorting Hat on again."

"And I'm sure Professor Snape has told you the hat will not likely change it's answer," said Dumbledore, now looking at Vitani.

"I'd like to ask the hat a question, if I may."

"There is no rule against questions in this castle," answered Dumbledore as he stepped near a shelf where the patched hat rested. He plucked the hat up and motioned for Vitani to take a seat in the chair opposite his desk.

"This may take a bit," said Dumbledore. "Dinner's starting; why don't the two of you go down and we'll join you later," he looked toward Snape and Farley. The two nodded and silently left the room.

The moment the hat touched her head she heard its echoing voice.

"So we meet again Vitani DeVera."

_Yeah._

"I suppose you're wondering if a placed you into the right house?"

_Kinda. I'm more interested in the last thing you told me._

"As I recall, I believe I placed you in Slytherin based on the Slytherin's original qualities."

_Yeah, but what _are_ those original qualities?_

"Ambition, cunning, resourcefulness…"

_Cut the crap, hat, I know you're hiding something._

"I don't know what you mean."

_How come the entire house is as bigoted as the sky is blue?_

"But the sky isn't always blue, now is it?"

…_That doesn't answer my question._

"The majority of Slytherin students have strong ties to traditional values, which sometimes includes the belief in blood supremacy."

_You think I'm traditional?_

"Certainly not."

_Then why am I in Slytherin?_

"You share other qualities with Slytherin."

_Name them, ALL of them._

"Resourcefulness, intelligence, cunning, ambition, determination, a certain disregard for rules-"

_Wouldn't 'a certain disregard for rules' conflict with 'traditionalism'?_

"Slytherin was a very contradictory person."

_What?_

"I sit on my shelf as days and nights fade into one another, remembering memories that are not mine, of a past before Hogwarts. Many do not realize it is extremely hard to create a completely separate sentient being, even with magic. It is much easier to simply put preexisting consciousness into an object."

_You're a product of the founders' minds!_

"Indeed. It is because of this that I am the only one to truly know how the students were sorted, as well as the depth of the founders' personalities not known to history. You are here because you doubt your placement, but more importantly for knowledge barred from you and many others. I placed you in Slytherin because you have many qualities that match _Salazar Slytherin,_ not necessarily the current Slytherin house. Despite the fact that I sort based on the qualities of the wearer, the wearer may choose to act as society depicts him. Do you really think that all the Slytherins but you are prejudiced?"

She thought of Farley. _No… I guess not._

"But you and many others see them as a house founded on bigotry."

_I see your point. But Slytherin is said to be a proponent of pure bloods._

"And what exactly defines a pure blood?"

"Vitani."

Vitani opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them during her discussion with the hat. Because of the hat's echoing voice, Dumbledore's words seemed as though they were coming from very far away.

"Dinner may be just about done. I think you should go and snag a few bites before bed, and I'm sure your friends are concerned for you. If you have anymore questions you can come back."

Vitani stood from the chair, her legs a bit sore from sitting for so long, and gave the hat to Dumbledore's outstretched hand.

"Thank you Professor Dumbledore."

"Your very welcome Miss DeVera."

Vitani walked from the room and descended on the spiral staircase and walked to the Great Hall, her head filled with even more questions then when she came. Now that she thought about it, the hat had still not answered her original question, but side stepped it.

If there was one thing that she had learned, it was that the Slytherins would not be happy with news when they came back from break.

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**Farley is a very 'no non-sense' kind of prefect. She has the attitude and authority Percy wished he had. I know I said this was going to make a Christmasy chpt but it didn't really work out that way. Next time I will put in more playful content. Review!?**


	16. Exploration

**Disclaimer: ****すべてのハリー****·****ポッターのキャラクターは、****JK****ローリングに属します。**

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"CHRISTMASSSSSSSSSSSS!" bellowed Linus as he ran down the stairs, flailing his arms and bursting into the Great Hall. It was the first day of break and certainly not Christmas.

"I think you're a few days off Linus," yawned Vitani, sitting at the nearly empty Slytherin table. The only others were Emmelia and Gemma, the rest of the Slytherins having left yesterday.

"The only thing off is his rocker," muttered Emmelia, her head on her arms, half asleep.

"Well good morning to you, sunshine," he ruffled her hair as he passed and she glared at him.

"I don't see why you're so excited anyway. Aren't you Jewish?"

"I'm not picky; any holiday is my kind of holiday."

"Amen," said Vitani.

"So what do you all plan to do since you're stuck here?" asked Gemma, biting into a piece of bacon.

"We'll probably just roam around, get the formal tour and what not," he said as he sat, pulling the eggs towards him.

"I guess it's as good a time as any, since there's no one here. Maybe we can see the Slytherin common room," Emmelia raised her head.

"Hey, since the Slytherins aren't here, can we sleep in their dormitory?" Linus asked Gemma.

"They'll absolutely despise you, but it's not like they're here to stop you."

"Yes! I'm sleeping in Malfoy's bed. I'm gonna roll in it like a wet dog on a carpet."

"You have a death wish?" Gemma cocked an eyebrow.

"Hey, it's not like it'll come up in conversation or anything. Just don't mention it."

"Trust me, I have enough to deal with those idiots, not like I want to rile them up even more."

They spent the rest of that morning exploring the Slytherin common room, noting the intricate detail of silver and green snakes intertwined into every piece of furniture and tapestry. When they got bored, which was fairly quickly, they went off in search of the two remaining common rooms yet to be breeched.

After lunch they stalked a lone Hufflepuff in the shadows as he walked back to the common room. Interestingly, they found themselves in the kitchen corridor and watched from the corner the boy approach a grouping of barrels. Two from the bottom, middle of the second row, the boy tapped the lid of the barrel in sequence. The lid popped open and the boy crawled in and the lid closed the moment his toes were past the opening.

They waited a few moments and repeated the process, tapping the lid with a tap-tap, tap-tap-tap. When they finally made it out of the short tunnel the barrel opened to, they came upon a warm and cozy chamber. The common room was decorated with the colors of bumblebees, splashed here and there by green flora that Professor Sprout had probably brought. Where they had seen snakes and lions were now badgers of varying size, on the tapestry, carved into the mantle and furniture, on the pots of the plants. Also everywhere was burnished copper, trimming the windows and portrait of their founder Helga Hufflepuff. They stared at her as she waved to them, and thought for a moment a curious thought. Neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin, probably the most boisterous of the houses, had a portrait of their founder. Yet here was humble Helga in the largest frame the trio had every seen. As comforting as the room was, the eyes of Hufflepuff unnerved them, and they quickly left for Ravenclaw tower. Was this why Hufflepuffs were so honest? Because they couldn't bear to be watched by those all seeing eyes?

The Ravenclaw common room was not very hard to find. Upon climbing the fourth floor stairs a couple of first years spotted them and beckoned them to their tower. Up another flight of spiral stairs and they found themselves in front of a large door with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. A Ravenclaw girl grasped the knocker and knocked thrice, the sound echoing down the hall. Then a voice sounded from the mouth of the eagle.

_Do not attempt to capture me, arm yourself not. Run into me with all your fear, kind only in sleep. Numb within the mind, eternally until the morrow, sunset to sunrise. What am I?_

"Oh, this is a hard one isn't it?" said the girl to her fellow Ravenclaw next to her.

"What?" Linus' brows furrowed. "You guys don't have a password?"

"The riddle is our password. It changes every time the door closes."

"Jeez, what an inconsistent door."

"But no one can get in unless they're in Ravenclaw," said the girl proudly.

"Or they can answer the riddle," muttered Vitani as Emmelia stepped toward the door and murmured an answer.

_Delightly deduced_ said the door as it swung open.

The trio stepped into a high domed room draped in blues and bronze. The animal this time was a majestic eagle, flying across the tapestries and roosted in the furniture and bookcases in the room. The room had an airy and flyaway feel to it. And the centerpiece, a grand white marble statue greeted them as Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Before they could explore the room further, the two they had entered with stopped them.

"How did you figure it out?" asked the boy, Terry Boot.

"It's within the poem itself," murmured Emmelia as she eyed a table with pieces of scrap parchment on it. She took a piece and began to write on it while the others peered over her shoulder.

_Do not attempt to capture me,_

_Arm yourself not._

_Run into me with all your fear,_

_Kind only in sleep._

_Numb within the mind,_

_Eternally until the morrow,_

_Sunset to_

_Sunrise._

"Wow! That's amazing!" said the girl, Lisa Turpin.

"I don't think it's ever given poems before," said Terry.

"We lucked out with Emmelia here. She is all things liberal arts," praised Linus.

They finished off the day with a wonderful dinner and went to bed in the Slytherin dormitory, Linus in the boys' all by his self. The next morning Vitani and Emmelia walked into the boy's dormitory wondering what was taking him so long. They found him still asleep, stretched out across four beds he had pushed together the night before. All the pillows, sheet and blankets were rumpled and wrinkled to the fullest; he clutched one of the pillows like a teddy bear, drool staining it. When they finally dragged him from the dormitory and to the Hall, they found themselves in a white wonderland.

Their stomachs filled, they flung themselves into the blankets of white outside to build massive forts and castles in the snow. With the shovels they found in a shed nearby (and a little magic) they created giant towers rivaling those of Hogwarts itself, complete with tiers, shingling, stairs, windows, drawbridge, moat and sharks. They spent most of the day in this tower, drinking hot chocolate and pelting with snowballs those who dared to come within striking distance. This led to an all out war between the Weasley twins, Harry and Ron, who built their own (feeble) fort in retaliation. After a few hours of continuous fire at each other, Percy Weasley, older brother and prefect of Gryffindor, stomped out between the two forts, yelling at the top of his lungs to stop the insistent ruckus. They all left for the Great Hall at that point, Percy buried under a mountain of snow.

It was at this point that all that could be fun during the day was done and so they turned to night, creeping through the dark corridors and classrooms by the moons guide. It was on these trips into darkness that they found a very sad object.

Through various doorways and up several staircases they found themselves on the fifth floor, one of the least populated class floors in the school. Only one or two rooms actually dotted the corridors, really the floor was an exposé for the many paintings and portraits of past headmasters. The trio crept past these snoozing portraits lest they alert Filch to their presence. In and out of unused classrooms, filled with dust and piled chairs and desks, lacking anything of interest, until they came to a room near a suit of armor standing outside and saw the very sad object inside.

It was a large eloquent mirror framed in gilded gold leaning against the back wall of the classroom. Upon closer inspection they spied an inscription bordering the top of the frame _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. The cool mirror was with out dust or scratches, unlike the rest of the forlorn room. The light from the window reflected oddly off its surface.

They expected to see themselves reflected back yet the three were utterly lost in the mirror, only the scene behind them reflecting through. When Emmelia and Vitani moved to look around the mirror, Linus gasped.

"What?" Emmelia and Vitani came back to the mirror and saw nothing.

"Step back!" spoke Linus nearly shoving them away. They scrambled back and stared awkwardly at each other and at Linus as he stared fixedly at the mirror.

"Incredible," he whispered and touched the mirror as though wishing to melt through it. But as suddenly as his eyes had lit with a passionate fire, they turned icy and he sent his fist toward the empty glass that only the girls could see.

"Linus!" cried Emmelia, pulling him away from the mirror.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Vitani spat, slapping her hands on to the sides of his head. This seemed to snap him out of it a bit. "What do you think you're doing, punching a mirror; think shards of glass in your hand is dandy don't you?"

Emmelia had gone back to the mirror to inspect the damage. It had shaken but there was no visible mark, scratch, or fracture on the surface. In fact, there wasn't any indication he had touched the mirror at all. The light of the moon that reflected off the mirror reflected off Emmelia's eyes and back again.

"I was on a stage."

"What?"

"I was on a stage," repeated Linus. "I was walking toward a man near a podium. He was holding out a Nobel Prize. Mum and dad were in the audience, with out _her_."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I was happy...but I hated it."

"I don't understand anything you're saying Linus," Vitani sighed.

"It wasn't real."

"Well at least now you're making sense." She turned toward Emmelia, gazing softly into the mirror. The same empty silver light that shone from the surface seemed to glaze Emmelia's eyes. "Emmelia, Linus is being a cryptic over here, come and help me figure out what's wrong with him."

Emmelia did not pull away. Vitani left Linus where he stood and he sunk to the floor, his arms on his knees, his head on his arms.

"Emmelia? Emmelia! Why are you crying?"

The girl stood still, small droplets of silver streaking her cheeks, her face contorted in joy and utter agony. Vitani looked into the mirror to see what strange image that Emmelia only seemed to be seeing, but still there was only empty silver. Fearing the mirror was sort of cursed object; she pulled Emmelia away to where Linus seemed to be regaining composure.

"What on earth happened, what did you two see?"

"I was getting a Nobel Prize," he said holding his head, rubbing circles into his temple, "and mum and dad were in the audience, without my sister. They were smiling at me, _me_, not my sister, not anything about her, just me. Like I was the greatest joy in their world."

"I saw myself," said Emmelia, "and dad with someone new. He looked really happy." She paused, "But that's not going to happen anytime soon," she murmured.

Vitani looked at them with concern and then turned to the sad object in the room, the cause of the pain, and stepped towards it. Alone in the mirror's gaze, she could finally see herself, but she was not alone. Behind her were her mother and father beaming happily at her. In her mother's arms was a small blanket bundle, the face turned away into her mother's chest. Behind them was her grandfather with his minuscule glasses on the bridge of his nose, tinkering with a small metal bird in his hands. On either side of her with an arm draped over each shoulder were Emmelia and Linus, looking much happier than their real life counterparts.

Vitani looked closely at the image in the cold surface with longing. She wanted so desperately to be home with her family and friends. But as she trained her eyes on each of their faces she saw the frame of the mirror and realized that this was just an empty image with no meaning. Her friends were behind her, needing her, her family far away at home.

"Let's go back to the common room," she said to the two sitting on the floor, starting to calm themselves down.

She had to tug a bit, as they still seemed to be in a daze, but she managed to get them up and out of the room. Repeatedly she had to tell them to tread softly down the corridors, but they were lost in their own minds. When they finally got back to the common room she left them standing near the entrance as she went to the dorms. There was always a pitcher of water left near a few glasses for those who got thirsty during the night. She carried the pitcher back to the common room and dumped it over their heads. At last she got a reaction.

"The hell!"

"Vitani!"

"I don't know what exactly that mirror was", she said, "but it won't do any good to dwell on it. Let's go to bed."

"I want to go back in the morning."

"Why?"

"It'll be different during the day, not as mysterious and creepy."

"If that's what you want."

The next morning they wondered around the fifth floor until they came to the mirror room again. They had to be careful of any teachers and portraits following them.

"Look at the inscription."

"I'm writing it down for later."

"I'm bored," Linus said after an hour.

"Fine, let's get lunch."

It was well past Christmas, when they had stuffed themselves to capacity with turkey, ham, stuffing and cranberry sauce, and the train bringing the students back to the castle the next day, that Emmelia had finally decoded the inscription on the mirror.

"It's so stupid."

"That's the inscription?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. It's just 'I show not your face but your hearts desire'."

"That was our heats desire? You'd think it would have made us happy."

"It did make us happy, until we realized it was just a hallow reflection." She was quiet for a moment. "They shouldn't keep something that tempting in the castle."

"I guess that's why it's hidden in that room."

"Hidden! The door wasn't even locked!"

"Let's not dwell on that. We need to spend our last day together to the fullest."

They both looked at her with bemusement.

"Vitani, we don't leave until the day after tomorrow."

"Oh."

"You know what that means though?"

"What?"

"I get one more night in Malfoys bed!"

"That sounds so wrong on so many levels."

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**BTW, Emmelia is not Emilia; it's pronounced Eh-mell-ia, the 'mell' sounding like 'melon'. If you still don't know what the answer to the riddle is, it's 'darkness' (the first letter of each line spells it out). I updated really late! Sorry! Review.**


	17. Defection

**Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi. Review!**

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The two girls awoke again to a late sleeping Linus, who had made the largest mess of Malfoy's bed yet. Somehow in the course of the night, he had managed to twist the bed spread and sheets into actual knots, soak the pillows with his drool, pull the sheet cover off the mattress and flip the bed over so that when they entered the first year boys dorm, the mattress was on top of him on the floor. After digging him out, he beamed sleepily at the destruction well done.

"You do realize the elves will fix this before Malfoy gets back, and no germ from you will be left to 'infect' him."

"Not if I do this."

He grabbed a piece of spare parchment, folded it so it could stand on it's own and wrote _'please leave as is'_ and placed it on the toppled mattress.

"Somehow I don't see that working too well," said Emmelia.

"They listen to whatever you tell them right? Well, we'll find out tonight now won't we?"

The trio left and began climbing the dungeon stairs when Vitani, walking backward talking to the other two, crashed yet again into Professor Quirrell, who looked so pale he could have been mistaken for one of the castle's ghosts.

"W-we m-m-meet a-g-g-gain Miss. DeVera! S-s-sorry to k-keep b-b-bumping into y-you. W-w-w-well, I'll be g-g-g-going n-now!"

Before they could say anything he quickly did an about face and marched up the steps, occasionally knocking into the railing in his rush.

Linus let out a long whistle, "That guy is really paranoid."

"Or suspicious," muttered Vitani.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So everyone should be coming back today right?" asked Emmelia.

"Yeah."

"Oh joy. Can't wait to be in the Slytherin's company again," complained Linus.

"You're with one now," Emmelia nodded toward Vitani.

"She doesn't count."

"Well what about me," said Gemma as she came from behind them.

Linus looked her up and down. "Nah, you don't count either."

"And why not?"

"You haven't hanged us from the rafters yet."

She gave a little smirk, "yet."

"Oh, now I'm scared," he said mockingly.

"What should we do today," said Emmelia, changing the subject.

"The other students won't get here 'til late afternoon, and then we have the feast. We all slept late, so we don't have too much time."

"I don't feel much like exploring the castle," murmured Linus, probably thinking about their last depressing discovery. "Can we just relax in the common room? I feel rather lazy today."

"I guess we could do that," Vitani shrugged.

So there they stayed for most of their time, each trying to settle comfortably in the common room. It was a tad difficult reclining in the hard backed chairs, so they settled on the floor, dragging pillows and blankets from a small closet near the back of the common room Gemma had revealed to them. This closet was the same place the elves kept the cleaning supplies for the Slytherin dorms. They lie on the floor, reading some books and comics Emmelia had brought from home, as their electrical toys were useless. For a long time Vitani stared at the beginning page of _A Tale of Two Cities_, nearly falling asleep, when she threw the book back into Emmelia's bag.

"I don't feel like reading about some old French hag tearing a family apart in misguided revenge."

"Read a comic or manga, and then you can just look at the pictures," said Linus.

"Emmelia, what did you bring with you?"

"Well," she said, pulling the books from her bag, "I have the first few issues of the original Batman and Spiderman, the most recent Shonen Jump, the first few volumes of Death Note, Fullmetal Alchemist, and Fruits Basket..."

Give me FMA," she said and was handed the small volume. On the cover were Edward and Alphonse Elric, clad in red cloak and armor respectively. For a moment she stared at Edward's turned back, looking at the large black cross-like symbol embedded on his cloak. A deep buried concern came to the surface of her mind, something that had been pushed back when her friends had suddenly arrived.

"Linus," she nudged him with her foot.

"Huh?" coming out of his sleepy stupor.

"What is this symbol called," she showed the cover to him, "this cross on Edward's back. And on Alphonse's shoulders," she added.

"I'm not sure."

"I think it's something with an 'F'," said Emmelia.

"F-L… something," Linus added.

"Oh! I remember; it's Flamel."

"_What?_" asked Vitani.

"Yeah, it's called a 'Flamel'."

She immediately sat up straight, her head bent over the flipping pages until she came on a scene of Edward and Alphonse in the military's library, researching how to make-.

"The Philosopher's Stone," she murmured.

"Yeah, that's the whole plot of the series. You didn't forget that, right?" asked Linus.

This was why she thought Flamel had come from a muggle book, because it _had_, from this manga in her hands. And Harry had said the package in Gringotts had been tiny, barely two inches long, the rough size of the stone. Now she knew why the vault had been so heavily guarded. But why, now, was it here?

"Vitani, are you ok?"

"I have something to tell you two."

She told them about her midnight adventures with and without Harry, and how Harry had said something about a small package in Gringotts had been stolen, and now her recent revelation about the stone.

"Whoa," gasped Linus.

"Indeed," said Emmelia.

"So, why is it here?"

"I don't know. I suppose this Flamel guy trusts Dumbledore and thought Gringotts wasn't safe enough, which turned out to be true," Vitani shrugged.

"But why do you still look so shaken?" asked Emmelia.

During her little search into the book in her hands, sheen of sweat had formed on her brow. "I'm worried about it, about someone taking it. There's already been a disturbance before."

Both Linus' and Emmelia's eyebrows rose.

"I don't want to believe it, but there's a possibility that Snape might be trying to take it," and she told them about Harry's encounter with the dog bitten Snape.

"But why would he want the stone?"

"Why does anyone want the stone? For fame, wealth, immortality, all the things people wish for but truly don't understand," Emmelia explained.

"That's the thing; Snape doesn't seem like the person to want those things," said Vitani.

"Who wouldn't want infinite cash and life?" asked Linus.

"This isn't a video game, it's life." she looked down. "I would think Snape is smart enough to not go after those things. But I don't know for sure."

"I agree with you," said Emmelia. "Besides, Dumbledore probably told all the teachers about the stone when it came here. He wouldn't accept the stone from Flamel if he didn't trust the other teachers to stand their ground and protect the stone with him."

When Emmelia said 'stand their ground' Vitani instantly thought of Professor Quirrell, but immediately dispelled the thought. Like such a blubbering weakling would go after the stone.

In the distance, through many meters of water, they heard the chime of five o'clock come and go. The students would be back very soon and then the feast would begin.

"Let's go up, they might be here soon."

"One sec," and Linus ran toward the boy's dorms. They heard a loud 'Hah!' and then he came back, smiling evilly. "My little mess is still there."

"Oh dear."

"You better hope they don't blame that on me."

They went up the steps to the entrance hall just as the students started filing through the door.

"Come on, we're sitting at the Slytherin table no matter what," said Linus.

They ran ahead into the great hall where Gemma, Harry, and Ron were already seated at their own tables. The staff were all there as well, except for Quirrell, who rushed in with the incoming students, coughing as though out of breath. She narrowed her eyes as he passed by to the staff table. Maybe she would reconsider him.

Gemma greeted them with a small nod, her eyes focused on a small notebook she was writing in. However, she had to grudgingly take her eyes away from her work when the other Slytherins came to the table.

"You! Why are you still here!"

"It's nice to see you too Pansy," Emmelia grimaced.

"You can't sit here; we won't have muggles contaminating our table. And you!" she jabbed her finger at Vitani, "you should have been kicked out of Slytherin!"

"The hat said nay," said Vitani, "and so I stay. There's nothing that can be done."

"Override the hat!" she screeched. "You don't deserve to be in Slytherin you filthy blood traitor! Why didn't Snape kick you out?"

"Because Snape isn't as much of a bigot as you think he is," Emmelia spat. "He has enough sense to know not to kick out the most intelligent student just because of her friends or beliefs."

"Be quiet you stupid muggle."

"Oh, that's mature," she scoffed, "because calling me names will definitely help you win this argument. Here, let me assist you. You're nothing but an arrogant sow, raised to breed for the Slytherin supremacists. Your basic job in life is to be a baby-making machine for Lord Voldy's henchmen. In short, you're a bitch."

"How, how dare you talk-"

"To a little twit like yourself?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth!"

"It's not like you could put them there yourself."

Vitani clapped her hands on the table as she watched Pansy's face turn to a raging violet.

"Had enough miss prissy?"

Pansy _had_ had enough.

"I didn't ask your opinion you filthy mudblood!" she exploded.

The next second was a blur of black robes, and then Pansy was off the ground, being held by the collar by Vitani's hands. Pansy grasped at Vitani's wrists, but to no avail.

"I don't care," Vitani whispered darkly, "what you say about me. Loathe me, insult me, humiliate me..." she lifted Pansy higher, "but if you ever speak to Emmelia, or any of my friends like that again," she brought Pansy close to her face, "I will personally see to it that your life be a living hell."

The threat had been too quiet for the staff or the rest of the students to hear. All they saw was Vitani put down Pansy none to gently and Pansy back away quickly into the safety of the other Slytherins.

At that point Snape came over to the table.

"The Headmaster wants to start the feast, unless there's any problem?" he asked, glancing narrowly at the other Slytherins clutching Pansy. Pansy glanced at Vitani, calm but radiating waves of malice.

"N-no, sir. No problem."

"Good, now sit down and be silent." He walked back towards the staff table, while the Slytherins sat down, most of them edging toward the extreme right of the table, while Vitani, Emmelia and Linus sat nearer to the staff table. Gemma and Korn sat between them acting as a barrier, when Dumbledore began to speak.

After a very enjoyable feast, the trio went up to Gryffindor tower, and caught Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins and Neville before they could enter.

"If you want to have a nice ending to the day, you'll follow us."

Down the dungeon steps they went, careful not to make any noise as the large group followed the other Slytherins to their common room. When the entrance had closed on them, Vitani motioned for the group to put their ears to the stonewall.

"Why are we doing this?" asked Ron.

"Shhhhhhh," hushed Linus.

A few moments later, a rather loud, angry yell was heard from behind the wall.

"Who the bloody hell did this to my bed!"

"Hey Draco, there's a note on the floor."

The group began to cackle as Draco read out the note.

"'To my bestest buddy ol' pal o' mine, Mistah Draco Malfoy, foh all the wondahful time we did _not_ get to spend togethah. Lahv, your chummiest chum, Sir Jonathan Linus Molloy III.'"

The group had to run away from the wall at that point; their laughter was so loud it alerted the Slytherins from inside the common room. Luckily only the skirts of their robes were seen turning the corner, and in the morning when the Slytherins pleaded with Snape that the muggle boy had left a huge mess of the boy's dorm, he would not hear a word of it.

At breakfast the next morning Vitani sat as Linus and Emmelia put their bags on their backs and shoulders. Professor Snape and McGonagall would be taking the three of them to the train station at the end of breakfast. Just as the two teachers left through the front doors of the castle, Linus turned to the Slytherins walking past to their classes, and walked up to Pansy. He tapped her on her shoulder.

"And what do _you_ want?" she spat.

He stared at her face for a long time; so long it unnerved her. Then he licked his hand and smeared it on her face.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGH!" she screeched, and the glass chandelier shattered above them.

"I've been licked by a muggle! I've got muggle GERMS! GET HOT WATER, GET SOME DISINFECTANT, GET SOME IODINE!"

A few weeks had passed with little excitement, unless you consider failed attempts by the Slytherins to humiliate Vitani exciting.

Now fully recovered from her fright, Pansy and the other Slytherin girls had planned a few traps for her between classes. On her way out from Transfiguration, a magically levitating bucket of pink paint nearly fell on her. At the last second she pulled Malfoy in front of her, effectively turning him into a Pepto-Bismol bottle. On her way to Charms, Pansy 'accidentally' spilled a tub of frogspawn across the corridor floor, causing many to slip and fall over each other. Vitani stopped short, looked at the chaos in amusement, took out her wand and said "Scourgify", cleaning the hallway and students of the sticky substance. On her way to the library, Tracey and Millicent released a snake she had taken from the DADA room into the hallway behind Vitani. They expected a loud scream when the snake turned the corner. Instead they heard some sort of faint whispering, and then the snake came back, chasing the two down the corridor.

Vitani was somewhat surprised to see that Malfoy was not bothering to participate in these little plans. Then again, he seemed to be much more concerned with showing up Harry and Ron, and vice versa. Maybe it was a boy thing. What she definitely did not expect was the incident before the next Quidditch match.

In the weeks before the next Quidditch match; as the competitive air began to intensify, the houses became more and more hostile to each other. The Slytherin house was the most vicious; if Hufflepuff did not win this match against the Gryffindors then the Slytherins would be placed fourth for the Quidditch Cup, the first time in seven years. It was because of this that Malfoy and company were constantly on the prowl for victims. Of course, one of those victims just had to be Neville.

Vitani was finishing an essay for Flitwick when Malfoy strutted into the common room, Goyle and Crabbe lumbering behind him. He and his cronies were cackling about some trick they'd played on some dumb Gryffindor they'd just passed. She almost thought of flicking Malfoy's robes over his head with Wingardium Leviosa, when he said, "Hah, stupid Longbottom won't be able to get out of that curse anytime soon. Stupid lug will be hoppin' around the school all night long!"

Vitani quietly shut her book and edged her way around the room until she was behind him. Then rushing forward, she grabbed Malfoy by the collar, flipped him over her shoulder and pinned him to the ground.

"How the hell did you-"

"I know mixed martial arts," she dead toned. Then she pulled at his collar, his face very close to hers. "What did you do to Neville? Answer truthfully, we wouldn't want your pretty rat face made any uglier than it is," she whispered venomously.

"W-what's it to you?" he quipped, "Why do you care so much about Longbottom?"

"It's not so much about him as it is about you," Draco blushed. "Maybe it's just that face of yours that makes me want to find any excuse to punch it."

Before she could, however, she was pulled off of him by none other than Pansy herself.

"You've got some nerve DeVera! Trying to beat up poor Draco."

"You've got some nerve defending a slug like Draco." She was in no mood to deal with Prissy; all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off of Malfoy's face.

"I can't stand you walking around in here like you're some big hot shot DeVera!"

Vitani face palmed. "You say that as if everyone in this house doesn't walk around like a big shot. All you and Malfoy do is strut up and down the corridors with your lackeys trailing behind you. Go take a long look in the mirror Pansy; who you're shrieking at is yourself."

Crabbe and Goyle had helped Malfoy up from the floor, and now they, Pansy's gang and the other Slytherins were surrounding Vitani. At each word from Pansy they tightened the circle.

"I'm not anything like you!"

"That's all you look at isn't it; the differences. That's all you and the Slytherins ever see. Something that's not the same, that's unknown… it scares you, it terrifies you."

"Shut up! You're a Slytherin too!"

"Yet you insist I'm not. Do I frighten you Pansy? Would I frighten you more if I weren't a Slytherin? No, it would make it easy for you to hate me if I wasn't in Slytherin. You can't stand the fact that I'm a part of the same house as you, that I am so different from you, yet the same as you. You can't stand the fact there might be some deviation from the great Slytherin plan, that all you've known is wrong, that I might be the moral conscious of this house. I'm in this house, yet I oppose it."

"Everyone in this house believes the same things except for you."

"Since when does majority rule make a belief right? By that same logic, the muggleborns should be ruling over the purebloods. Their numbers grow; your numbers dwindle. Soon they will rule, just because purebloods won't exist anymore. You can't keep marrying your cousins forever." She was pushing it; at this rate she would have to fight to get out of the common room.

The faces around her scowled, and Pansy bellowed in rage, "You don't know anything about us you blood traitor!"

The circle nearly converged on Vitani when a loud "Pansy, shut up!" broke through. They all turned to see little Daphne, her face red in anger.

"Greengrass!" yelled Tracey, "stay out of the way."

_Yes Daphne, stay out of the way. _There wasn't anyway she could get both herself and Daphne out of the room.

"No! You guys think you can do anything without Farley or Korn around, and I'm sick of it!"

Montague took a step toward Daphne. "Yeah, no Farley or Korn to protect you now, girly."

Vitani rushed at Montague just as he lunged at Daphne. He was so large, but the combined momentum sent Montague off course and into the wall instead, effectively breaking the circle. Not missing a beat, she grabbed Daphne's hand and bolted toward the entrance, out into the corridor and wound around the dungeons, turning left and right to lose the chasing Slytherins. She knew at some point they would be cornered, but they lucked out; another left turn and they were in the kitchen corridor. The painted pear was in reach, under her fingers, shaking with laughter, opening the painting and out of her way. She pulled Daphne through the portrait hole and pulled the painting shut just as the Slytherins turned the corner. Daphne collapsed on the ground, panting heavily, but Vitani pressed her ear to the back of the canvas.

"They were here, I saw them!"

"Well they're not here anymore."

"This corridor is a dead end, there's no way they could have escaped!"

"Let's double back."

"But-"

"Come on!"

Vitani could hear the stampede of feet rush back down the corridor and fade into the distance. When she thought they were not coming back she turned to see Daphne gratefully taking a glass of pumpkin juice from one of the elves. Another elf offered her one as well, but she declined.

"You shouldn't have done that, they won't let you back into the common room now," said Vitani.

"You can't go back either," Daphne retorted. "What, you were just planning on roughing it in the castle for seven years?"

"I can stay at Gryffindor Tower, the same can't be said for you."

Daphne looked down on the tile floor, "I'll find some place."

"Like hell you will."

At that moment there was a scratching at the wall, and a small meow. Vitani pushed the painting out and in jumped cat-Akane, rubbing her head against Vitani's legs. Vitani picked the black cat up and nuzzled her.

"How are the dungeon corridors?"

"Re-ow."

"I thought as much." They would not be able to leave the kitchen for a long time. She turned back to Daphne, accepting her second glass of juice.

"Why did you do it," she said as she sat on the floor, Akane in her lap, "you couldn't have stopped them."

"I had to do something," Daphne mumbled lamely.

"_Why_?"

"It's just like I said in the common room; I've had enough of them trying to get away with whatever they want. I've had enough of what they do to other houses in the halls, during class, anything…"

"Why now, when you could have told a teacher?"

She looked down on the floor again. "Because you're right," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Because you were right!" she said loudly, and one of the elves fell off a stool he was standing on. "Everything you said in the common room was right. They're all scared… _I'm_ scared, and I hate it. All the other houses can't stand us, and why should they! We trip them and trap them and make fun of them all day long and now I can't even talk to someone outside the house without being glared or scoffed at."

She was breathing heavily, "I can't look at Malfoy or Pansy when they do something horrible, or at the teachers when they lie to them. I can't look at the victims of their pranks, even though I didn't do anything-"

"But you did do something, you let it happen."

"Yeah, I did, I didn't go to a teacher, even when it was all over." Tears started to spill from her eyes. "I'm so scared of telling on them, of going against them. I'm so scared of being wrong, of being _told_ I'm wrong."

"I'm sure you've done that a lot yourself."

Daphne cried harder.

Vitani took a handkerchief from one of the elves and handed it to Daphne, who blew her nose loudly. Then she put her arm around Daphne's shoulder.

"You are very young Daphne, and you are not Harry Potter. You have not yet made a very impressionable mark on the world," she squeezed her shoulder, "which means you can still change, more easily than the other Slytherins can."

Daphne looked at Vitani with her blood shot eyes.

"You'll start off slow," she shrugged as she stared out at the kitchen in front of her, "you'll say hello and tell them your name. You'll ask if you can sit with them, if they can help you in class, if they need help. You can talk about books, about bands, about teachers, anything you want. Slowly but surely, most of them will stop glaring at you. Hell, you might even make a new friend."

"But what about the others that don't stop glaring at me?"

"Do you think the only hateful people are in Slytherin? Ignore them and concentrate on the people that will give you a chance. They're the ones that matter."

Daphne blew her nose again and dabbed at her eyes; she looked much calmer now. Vitani looked around the room at the cooling pots and pans and the little elves scattered around, looking at the girls with worrying faces. They were probably trying to think of a way to help them. One came to them with another, cleaner handkerchief and a tray of éclairs.

"Thank you," mumbled Daphne, and the little elf beamed. She smiled softly back.

Vitani turned to an older elf, draped in a white toga like tea towel, a large chef hat perched on her head. She was on top of a tall stool, stirring what looked like tomorrow's dinner soup. She looked to be the head chef.

"Do you think we could stay here for tonight?"

"Of course!" squeaked the elf, as she jumped from her stool and skittered across the kitchen to a small switch on the wall. She flicked it and the wall in front of her disappeared to reveal hundreds of comfortable bonk beds.

Vitani turned to Daphne. "Tomorrow, we start are new lives as fugitives, but for now, we rest."

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** I check the visitor chart on this story. 100s of views a day, but no reviews… # $%!**

** On another note, I've never heard of an insult specifically for muggles, only for muggleborns (mudblood). I know sometimes 'muggle' can be an insulting word itself, in the case of the Dursleys, but it doesn't really convey a derogative tone. If you know a word or can create a word for this, I would be grateful.**


	18. The Seventh Lock

**Disclaimer: BLAHBLAHBLAH.**

****Note: Gemma Farley is a real character in the HP series, she was not created by me. If you are a Slytherin on Pottermore, you will have seen a notification from her as Slytherin prefect when you first enter the common room. Gary Korn, however, is fake.**

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For the next week Vitani and Daphne stayed with the elves, enjoying the much more pleasant company and eating to their hearts delight. They also discovered some elf only passages through out the school that the elves used to travel without being seen. They had to crouch to fit and in a few years it would be impossible for them to use the passages, so they took advantage while they could. One use for them was to prevent the Slytherins from telling on them.

Everyone had to be in their dorms by nine, anyone out during the night would get a detention or even expelled. Pansy, Tracey and Millicent constantly called on Snape to come to the common room to see that the two girls weren't there. While Pansy's gang was gone, Vitani and Daphne would sneak in and lie on their beds as though they'd always been there. Snape would get pissed and scold the three girls, much to Vitani and Daphne's amusement. At the end of the week, after being yelled at and sent to detention, they gave up.

They also gave up on trying to pull Daphne back into their 'group'. Before, Pansy had had three lackeys to boss around; now she only had two. It scared her that Daphne could 'trade sides' so easily. But it's not like they were warring nations or political factions, they were just schoolgirls trying to get through their first year. All the talk about trading sides was ridiculous.

"And it wasn't easy either," Daphne said as she placed the coat buttons she had been transfiguring into the box on McGonagall's desk. "It's not like I just made the decision right at that moment, I was thinking about it for weeks. But it's hard to decide with Pansy breathing down your neck."

But things moved on smoothly after that week. For one thing, Pansy and co. no longer threatened to flush Daphne's belongings down the toilet. The same could not be said for Vitani, which was why she had all her stuff hidden with Hermione in Gryffindor tower. They also stopped threatening to chase her away from the dorms and common room, and eventually she was able to sleep in her own bed. Again, the same could not be said for Vitani. Instead she slept with the elves or in one of the three other common rooms. The Gryffindors said they would be happy to let her stay, but she thought it might look odd if she kept going up to Gryffindor tower every night.

Daphne was also able to blend relatively easy into Vitani's group of friends when Vitani invited her to join their potions table, though it was somewhat embarrassing at first.

"But what if they tell me to go away?" Daphne bit her lip as they headed to the dungeons.

"I invited you; besides, if they tell you to scram than they're going to have to deal with me. Just tell them what I told you to say."

They walked towards the back table where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were already set up. The other Slytherins turned their heads away as they passed.

"Hello boys… and Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Hello Vitani."

"Hey Tani."

"S'up Tani."

"Hi Vitani," smiled Neville. "Um, I think there's someone hiding behind you."

She turned around to see Daphne slightly crouched behind her so she wouldn't be seen.

"Will you get over here!" she said, dragging Daphne up in front of the four Gryffindors. "Jeez, are you a worm or a witch?"

"A worm," Daphne muttered too low for the others to hear. She stood stock still, her face pale as she stared at the Gryffindors as they stared back.

_Oh for heaven's sake, _she thought as she poked Daphne in the back. Then the girl spoke as though her life was on the line.

"H-hello, my name is Daphne Greengrass, I'm-from-Slytherin-house-and-I'm-eleven-years-old- and-I-live-in-Wiltshire,-England-with-my-parents-a nd-younger-sister-and-my-grey-hound-Mullo-and-I-re ally-like-Quidditch-but-I'm-scared-of-heights-and- my-favorite-Quidditch-team-is-the-Holyhead-Harpies -and-I-like-to-play-Gobstones-and-collect-flowers- and-I've-had-an-interest-in-muggle-card-games-but- my-parents-forbid-it-and-I've-always-wanted-to-com e-to-Hogawarts-but-my-parents-once-considered-send ing-me-to-Beauxbatons-but-they-sent-me-here-'cause -it's-closer-and-the-Parkinsons-come-here-but-I'd- really-like-to-see-France-and…and why are you laughing?!"

Vitani was trying to muffle the sound with her hand but couldn't contain herself. "Daphne, you-you sound like you memorized what you were going to say."

"But you told me to say all that stuff!"

"Not word for word!" she was going to cry, it hurt too much to keep from laughing, "and not all at once. I don't think they need to hear your life's story." She patted her on the back. "They already know who you are; all you had to do was say 'Hi'."

"Hi," she mumbled weakly.

"It's too late for that!"

Daphne flushed all over and hung her head in embarrassment. By this point class had begun, and Snape was walking in their direction while the class watched.

"Is there a problem here Miss DeVera, Miss Greengrass, _Potter,_" he said lowly.

"We're aB-sO-lute-ly dan-dy," Vitani annunciated every syllable, looking big eyed into Snape's face. Her intensity threw Snape off and he backed up a step, coughed and went to the front of the class again to start the lesson.

A half an hour in the tension was greatly reduced.

"You don't have to panic so much Daphne," said Hermione when Daphne hesitantly asked for her to pass the jar of bat spleens, "We're not going to hex you or anything."

"Yeah, we save all that for Malfoy," whispered Ron as said boy passed.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Daphne.

"You don't need to apologize either," smiled Harry, "it's normal to be nervous around people you don't usually hang out with."

"I would know," said Neville, and they all chuckled.

"Enough chatter back there," droned Snape.

"Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter!" said Vitani loudly. Everyone cringed, they expected a sharp rebuttal from Snape but instead he lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"How the heck do you get away with that?" whispered Ron as Snape began to inspect Seamus' cauldron.

"It's because I'm in Slytherin and we're in front of another house," she whispered back. "He doesn't want to be seen punishing his own house by others. And also I'm his favorite."

"I don't see how you can be when you challenge him all the time, even if you are the star potions student," muttered Harry as he watched Snape prowl the tables.

"I remind him too much of my sister, who also liked to challenge his authority. I think as long as it's just witty banter and not an outright fight, like you and Snape, then he's fine with it."

"Yeah, well, it'd be nice if we could just settle to _banter_ during the Quidditch match this Saturday."

"What do you mean?"

"Snape's refereeing the match tomorrow," said Neville.

"What? Why?"

"We think Snape might try to knock Harry off his broom again," whispered Ron.

"What! You think that was Professor Snape?" gasped Daphne.

"I saw him cursing Harry's broom," muttered Hermione, "but let's not talk about him refereeing here."

However, this was all anyone could talk about, during class, in the corridors and at breakfast the next morning, when the school saw Snape walk to the staff table wearing a shiny silver whistle around his neck.

"Now if only he wore black and white striped robes, I could actually believe this was happening," said Vitani as she watched him sit down.

"I'd really rather believe this _wasn't_ happening," groaned Harry into his eggs.

"It'll be alright, he wouldn't try to do the same thing again, right?" asked Daphne as she came from the Slytherin table dressed all in yellow and black.

"Hey! What's with all the Hufflepuff getup?" accused Ron.

"What! I don't want Slytherin to place fourth! I still want my house to win the cup."

"She can root for whomever she wants to, Ron," sighed Hermione, while Ron grumbled something incoherently.

"What about you Vitani?" asked Daphne.

"I just don't care, I was never into sports." She had more important things on her mind.

"But you're so athletic and you take mixed martial arts!" exclaimed Ron.

"That's not a sport, it's a life style."

They all stood up with the rest of the school and started to walk to the field. On the way out, however, Vitani glimpsed Professor Quirrell going the other way, toward the staircase. She wasn't going to let him interfere with her plan.

"Daphne, I'll catch up with you in a second."

"But wait, Vitani!" she struggled in the sea of students.

"Just go!"

She turned away from the crowd and slipped through to the first floor, where Akane was waiting near a small alcove under the steps.

"I need you to get ahead of Quirrell and distract him," she whispered, "you know what to do."

The fox nodded and transformed into a fly, buzzing ahead of Quirrell. Up the next two flights of stairs and around the corridors she followed and watched as the fly flew over Quirrell's head and around the corner. Then Filch materialized and came face to face with Quirrell.

"O-o-oh! Good m-m-morning, Mr. Filch."

Akane-Filch grunted. "Expected you to be watchin' the match."

"W-well y-yes. Just c-collecting s-s-some for-g-g-gotten item. W-what brings y-you here?"

"Been some disturbances 'round here. Dumbledore told me to watch 'case someone comes up during the match," Filch narrowed his eyes.

Quirrell visibly gulped. "O-oh d-d-dear. How t-terrible. W-well, I'll j-just be g-going," and he turned around, heading back straight toward the third floor stairs, trying not to run away too quickly. When his footsteps had faded, Vitani stepped from her hiding place behind an open door and went up to Filch. With a pop, he disappeared to be replaced by her lookalike.

"Enjoy the match," she said.

"Sure, sure," said the doppelganger.

She watched Akane walk calmly down the stairs and then turned to her destination. Before Snape, or Quirrell or Harry or anybody, she would get the stone. It would be better this way, gone from history for good. Or at least, that's what she told herself as she blew a faint note into her ocarina and she opened the door to find the huge hellhound already falling asleep. She continued to play as she again tied the rope to the open trap door and began her descent.

About two thirds of the way down she took out a small glass bottle from her bag and swirled its yellowish liquid contents. In the opening was a stopper with a wick she had stripped from one of the floating candles in the Great Hall. The Molotov cocktail: a suitable weapon against the foe below her. She shook her head in amusement and astonishment. Did Professor McGonagall really believe she could assign that essay on fuel transmutation and not expect someone to try it? Of course, she shouldn't have been able to perform the incantation until at least third year, and why would any wizard ever need muggle fuels?

She held her lit wand and the bottle below her and inched her way down until she could see the end of the hole that opened to the Devil Snare below her. Clutching the rope between her thighs she hung over backwards, lit the wick with sparks from her wand, aimed at the edge of the stone hole opening, and threw the bottle.

The fuel ignited on impact, creating a large orange flame that fell rapidly over the Devil Snare. There was a loud screeching that Vitani assumed came from the plant and she cringed. Dropping down and running away from the scene, she felt a bit guilty for tormenting one of Sprout's plants. Then again, it did want to kill or at least seriously maim her. It's a good thing the green monster could regenerate.

She left to the key chamber, where she could see all the glittering specks flying above her. This was the chamber that had taken so much time during her last journey. She didn't know how much time this Quidditch match would take. She took out an extendable net from her bag she use to use when catching fairies with her father. Grabbing one of the brooms from the corner of the room, she made quick work of all the long black keys, tested each one, and strode through. Now would come the challenge.

She walked into the chamber and the lights brightened to reveal the large ornate chessboard. The hulking white marble pieces on the opposite side of the board looked just as menacing, if not more, than last time. But she was prepared now, or at least she hoped she was. She stepped on to the board and took the left knight; the knight being the most awkward moving piece, she felt the most comfortable with it. Climbing onto the horses back, the game officially began, with the first white pawn moving forward. After fifteen minutes or so, and losing three pawns and a bishop, she found herself on the opposite side of the board, just out of range of the white queen. She stared at the door in front of her, would she be able to simply jump off the horse and run for it? It seemed like the white pieces knew what she was thinking and slowly shook their heads. No, it wouldn't be that easy.

She ran around the board, taking as many pieces as she could without too many of her own, always cringing when a white piece would mercilessly strike down and drag one of her pieces off the board. At least the Shogi pieces were just tiles, indifferent and plain; there was something incredibly barbaric about the human pieces in chess, despite their expressionless faces and painless destruction. And she was nearly caught too when the white queen moved across the board directly at her. But she was wrong, she was one square over from the queen's path, and instead the large marble female smashed the rook just next to her. When she had flung the rook away to the side, the queen slowly turned to face Vitani.

_I don't care if it doesn't have a face, _she thought, _she's taking total pleasure in this. _Vitani ran out of range, and her other knight was taken down by a white bishop. However she had lucked out; in taking her other knight they had left their king defenseless and trapped, yet she needed one more piece to checkmate, and she could not see any. If she didn't take this chance now, the queen would get her in the next two turns and Vitani did not want to find out the strength in those arms. She climbed higher on her horse, vainly trying to see any piece she could use and then she saw it. Overshadowed by all the other pieces was a lowly pawn that had somehow escaped the fate of its comrades. If she moved it forward and… yes! It was protected, the king could not take it; she had won!

She swore the king looked disgusted as it threw its crown at the feet of the pawn but she didn't care, she jumped off the horse as fast as she could and ran through the door that threw itself open the moment she won. The instant she stepped into the next room, a horrible smell hit her and she came upon an incredible large and ugly troll. The smell was so potent she nearly doubled over, instead her eyes watered profusely. But she was grateful; the stupid creature was asleep! What a useless guard, she wondered who's idea it was to put the thing down here. She had guessed from the other obstacles that the teachers set them up, though she thought Quirrell would have set the hellhound as a trap. If the beast was not Quirrell's then this troll had to be. The trap was as useless as the teacher.

She carefully stepped around the troll, trying not to wake it, and made her way to the door. Before she opened it, she spotted a small bell hanging attached to the door. _Really, a bell; did they think the intruders coming this far would be so easily tricked?_ She pointed her wand at her feet and whispered "Wingardium Leviosa," and rose up to the bell. She pinched the clapper of the bell and bell itself, and unhooked it from the door. She set it gently on the floor and then slowly opened the door. It couldn't be so easy; the door was poorly oiled and made a creak too loud to ignore. Vitani whirled around just as the troll got to its feet, revealing a large wooden club it had been resting on. The hulking image of the twelve-foot troll with the large blunt instrument brought to mind a Japanese phrase. _Oni ni kanabo, _an ogre with an iron club, strong beyond strong. She was doomed.

_No Damnit! I did not come this far to be beaten by a stupid troll!_ She ducked at the large swing that smashed into the floor. She darted to the opposite side of the room as the troll came lumbering toward her and swung again. She ran back and the troll followed. She realized she was in no immediate danger; she was much faster than the troll and could easily keep her distance. But she was willing to bet the troll had the time and stamina to lumber around chasing her until she could no longer move her legs. When she ran back toward the door, she turned to face the troll and aimed her wand at its legs.

"INCENDIO!" she shouted and a large jet of fire blasted the troll's ragged cotton pants. There was a sickening moment when the troll kept moving toward her and she thought the troll could neither feel or be bothered by the flames. Then the troll looked at its legs and howled in delayed agony, dropped its club and began to beat the fire with its pan like hands. Quickly she shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!" at the club that had also lit on fire and she swung her wand violently toward the head of the troll. The club followed the wand's path, connected with the troll's skull and the troll collapsed, its fall snuffing the flames out. The room became silent.

_This is the last time I'm coming down here,_ she pledged as she walked into the next chamber, _I don't care this much about a stone that grants immortality if I die in the process of getting it._

The moment she stepped through to the next room, venomous violet flames shot up behind her, blocking the path back. In front of her in the next doorway, black flames shot up, blocking the path forward. On a small table in the room were a set of bottles and a piece of parchment. She stepped toward the table and peered at the liquids in the bottles; this must be Snape's trap.

She picked up the small piece of parchment and read:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, _

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find, _

_One among us seven will let you move ahead, _

_Another will transport the drinker back instead, _

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine, _

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. _

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, _

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide _

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end, _

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, _

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second on the left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight. _

_Yep, this is definitely Snape's. There's no other teacher I know that would threaten people with logic and deadly poisons._

She glanced at the row of bottles and began to sort them.

_The first on the left can't be forward… or wine either, so it has to be a killer or backward potion. All the others could be wine though. A killer can't be on the first right because it's not left of anything, wine included. It can't be forward either. Wait, if the second left and right are twins, they have to be the wine, because the killers are probably different… or not. Well this tiny one third from the left can't be a killer; it could be wine, forward or backward. Then two of the killers are next to each other, left of one of the wines… Killer, wine, forward, killer, killer, wine, backward… All the killers are left… the end bottles don't help me move forward, the small and big ones don't kill me… and the second left and right are the same! So it's the tiny one!_

She took the small bottle and drank its contents, a chill running down her throat as she swallowed. A second or so passed and she did not collapse, so hopefully this was the right potion. She approached the black flames and stretched out her hand, ready to pull it back if necessary. But the flames were cool to the touch and she stepped through them, her heart pounding as she came out the other side into a small chamber. She was so close, so close she could taste it. There were no more traps; she would have the stone.

She felt like she was riding a strange sort of high, but it all came crashing down when she spotted the only object in the room, the sad object itself, the Mirror of Erised. Why? Why did it have to come to this?

She ran toward the mirror and struck its surface with both her fists.

"Why? Why are you here? Where is the stone? I almost f-ing died in the last three chambers! Why? Why..."

She struck the mirror again, and placed her forehead on the cool surface, her eyes closed. She could imagine it, all the ingredients simmering in her cauldron, congealing into the blood red stone at the bottom. She could feel the bottles and jars in her hands, each ingredient as uncommon and unobtainable as the stone itself. She looked up into the surface of the mirror with a look of loathing. What she saw looking back was her own image stirring her cauldron, the ingredients on a small table next to her. One by one her mirror self placed each jar and bottle into a small bag, and with each ingredient placed in the mirror bag, the bag on Vitani's bag grew heavier and heavier until all the containers were in the mirror bag. Then her mirror self looked up, smiled and winked. Then the mirror became smooth silver again.

Vitani instantly placed her bag on the ground and opened the drawstring, revealing all the containers she had seen in the mirror. Everything, all the ingredients that would have taken multiple lifetimes to acquire, they were all hers.

She couldn't fathom what had just occurred, and took a moment to sit and rest against the mirror, clutching the bag close to her chest. There were enough ingredients to make at least five stones, or one large stone, though size didn't matter. But why had the mirror given her the ingredients? Because she desired them? Why not just give her the stone? One thing was for sure; the stone was in there, waiting for someone else to pull it out. She'd had enough adventure for the year, and five stones in the making. One would last her for several lifetimes.

Vitani pushed herself off the floor and slowly made her way through the black flames to the potions chamber. She took the last bottle and drank it, also feeling a chill from this potion. She noticed vaguely that the tiny bottle had refilled itself for the next traveler.

She made her way through the purple flames to the troll, still knocked out cold, to the chess chamber where the pieces parted for her, toward the Devil Snare that was still cowering in a corner, up the rope, past the hellhound and out of the third floor corridor. She was free and would never go back down again. Ever.

She quickly ran from the corridor until she was far enough away, and then slowed to a leisurely walk. When she came to a window she glanced out onto the Quidditch field, everyone was gone; she glanced at her watch, it was four hours later, mid afternoon. The match must have ended early. From the reduced noise level, she believed everyone to be having lunch. She pulled from her robe pocket a dog whistle and blew. A few minutes later, her doppelganger came to meet her, holding an apple in her hand. Vitani took the apple and gave her bag to her copy.

"I need you to take this to my secret place, okay?"

"Alright."

"Here," Vitani pulled a small curled key from a necklace and handed it to Akane.

The fox's human eyes went wide. "The seventh lock?"

"The seventh lock."

"This must be very important."

"Eternally important."

Akane walked toward the window and pushed it open. Standing on the ledge, she took off, quickly transforming into a large Great Horned owl and sailed away with the bag clutched in her talons, the key in her beak.

Vitani closed the window softly and bit into her apple while making her way down toward the dungeons, passing the Great Hall completely. She needed more than just an apple, so she headed toward the kitchen to fill herself and avoid suspicion from the other students. It would look odd if she ate twice.

She curled up in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower that night, later joined by cat-Akane, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep of trap free school life, Easter holiday's, and her mother's cooking.


	19. Birthday

**Disclaimer: Blah**

**Xxxxxx**

All things must come to pass. Her trips down to hel- er- the third floor corridor were done, as well as the majority of her learning. Easter was upon them, and afterwards revision would start. But before all of that, one last thing would come to pass. Despite Pansy's gang having given up on Vitani's expulsion due to her never sleeping in the Slytherin dormitory, Snape had still found out, and on the last day before the holidays began, he came up to her before breakfast with a solemn expression on his face.

"You're in for it now, DeVera," Pansy muttered harshly as he approached the Slytherin table. Vitani rolled her eyes; it was much more likely Snape was coming to punish Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Stupid rather than her. But she was wrong.

"A word Miss DeVera," he said in his low voice.

"I didn't do it."

His eyebrows rose.

"Sorry, gut reflex."

His eyebrows rose higher.

"To my office," and he walked away.

"Hah!" whispered Pansy, and the other Slytherins cackled. Vitani rolled her eyes again and rose from her seat, taking her bag and sparing Daphne a simple wave before following Snape. From the warm light of the Great Hall to the cool dark of the dungeons they walked until she was confronted again with Snape's potion cluttered office. Getting straight to the point, he whirled around to stand in front of his desk and stated, "You need to sleep in your dormitory."

She decided to play hardball. "Which dormitory would that be…_sir?"_

"The first year girl's Slytherin dormitory." Monotone.

"I don't believe my name is on anything in that dormitory." Mocking.

"I don't believe your name is on anything in _any_ dormitory." Wearisome.

"Then I guess I have nowhere to live." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You are a first year girl Slytherin, therefore you belong in that dormitory," his voice was beginning to lose its apathetic quality.

"My colleagues say other wise."

"Your _colleagues_ have nothing to do with the placement of the students," he snapped, "That matter has been resolved, the hat-"

"The hat doesn't keep them from threatening to slash my throat in the middle of the night, if that's what you mean by _resolved."_

Snape's rage intensified, though it did not seem to be directed at her. "They've been threatening you?"

"They threaten _everybody,"_ she deadpanned. He ignored this.

"Why haven't you come to the teachers, to me?" his voice was incredulous.

"I don't know, why _wouldn't_ I come to the teachers considering I can't prove anything, that dragging in a witness would condemn them too, and that the one teacher that's _suppose_ to supervise the house is the same one that let's them run amuck torturing the other houses."

He scowled, her eyes narrowed; they stood there like that for a long moment. The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. Snape blew air through his nose.

"We will continue this conversation during lunch."

"Hmm."

She left the office and he followed, travelling the twisting corridors until they reached the potions dungeon. She walked passed the snickering Slytherins to the table in the back and proceeded to reach for her cauldron she had left to simmer last class.

"What happened Vitani?" whispered Daphne.

"Later," she hushed as Snape began,

"Your Forgetfulness Potions, if made properly, should have matured well over night. Carry on."

Vitani pulled up her cauldron to see her Confusing Concoction had turned a sickly yellow color that made most of her table edge away.

"Ew."

"It's supposed to look like that, Ron."

"Is it?" Snape had come over to investigate, "As I quite recall, the Confusing Concoction should be orange by now." The Slytherins behind him cackled.

Vitani dropped a single beetle's eye into the cauldron and instantly the potion turned a brilliant shade of orange that set the pewter aglow. Vitani crossed her arms, Snape sighed and the Slytherins behind him groaned. He turned away without another word.

"Wow Vitani, what'd you do to piss Snape off so much," muttered Harry as he added mistletoe berries to his cauldron.

"He wants me to sleep in the Slytherin dormitory and we had an argument."

"Did you tell him about them threatening to quarter you with Hippogriffs?" said Daphne.

"Something along those lines."

Potions and charms came and went and then lunch rolled around, and she found herself in Snape's office again. She was notably crabbier due to the lack of food.

"Thanks for your wonderful praise during class this morning _professor."_

"As I recall, you said I was too lenient on my house."

"So you punish the one good Slytherin when she wasn't even doing anything! God your logic is screwed up!"

He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "The other Slytherins weren't doing anything, you were talking. If you think about it, I let you get away with a lot, Miss DeVera."

The way he said it, it almost made her think he knew about her trips below the castle, but she wasn't going to help him wheedle that from her.

"You shouldn't be wondering the halls, or be in other dormitories for that matter. What if another troll got into the castle, what if some other ridiculous accident happened? You need to be in Slytherin dormitory should the teachers need to find you. I'm in charge of you, including when you go missing."

"So if I go missing, it's your head," it was a statement, not a question.

"I suppose so."

"Wow, how very _Slytherin_ of you to save your own skin."

"Why don't you trust me, Vitani? Before this argument, before today, when you've apparently been threatened by your house-mates for months, why is this only coming up now?"

She looked at him coldly. "I don't care if you play favorites with me, I don't care if I get special treatment, you still treat Harry, Neville and the rest of the Gryffindors like garbage. Did Potter do something to you in a past life? Did the Longbottoms wrong you in some way? Or are you just a product of a thousand year rivalry between two old fools that couldn't get over an argument? Was there ever a Gryffindor whose guts you didn't hate?"

"Yes," he said lowly before she could get anymore out. This derailed her.

"Yes to what?"

"All of it."

"_You_ had a Gryffindor friend?" she asked incredulously.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yes," it was quiet for a long moment, then…

"Who was it?"

"Hmm?"

"Your friend, who was it?"

"I don't believe I want to tell you."

She glared at him. He stared back.

"You're being too talkative. You can't be the real Snape."

"I thought being more talkative might get you to open up, or riled up, whatever it took to get an answer to my question," he shrugged.

"Which is why you attacked me during class."

He scoffed. "You are very melodramatic."

"I already told you before, I don't trust a teacher that constantly berates my friends and gives my enemies special treatment."

"You really think the Slytherins are your enemies?"

"I don't know about you, but I just can't seem to put the same people who said they'd hang me from the astronomy tower in the 'friend category'."

"Daphne seems to be coping well."

"Daphne is not a threat to their _precious pureblood society._"

Snape sighed and turned to face his desk, taking a blank piece of parchment from a pile and pointed the tip of his wand to it. Words in his handwriting flowed from the tip onto the paper, rolled into a scroll and sealed itself with magic. He walked toward the wrought iron fireplace, threw a small pinch of Floo Powder into it, and said, "Headmaster's Office," before throwing the scrolled letter into the green flames. Then he turned back to Vitani.

"No matter what you may think of me, I will not allow one of my house to be threatened, even if it's by the rest of my house. This will be resolved by the end of break, and you will stay in Slytherin dormitory."

"Fine."

"So you can be cooperative," he muttered.

"So who was your friend?" she jumped.

"Not a chance. You can still grab something to eat upstairs before afternoon classes start. You're dismissed."

Vitani left Snape's office somewhat in a daze. She was suffering from angst burnout with no food to support her and the knowledge that Snape had actually had a Gryffindor friend completely threw her through a loop. Of course he could be lying… he probably _was_ lying… damn him! Now in an even sourer mood, she stormed up the stairs to find some food. Too bad for her, yet another obstacle obstructed her path… well, she could walk through it.

"Hello Miss DeVera."

"Hello Baron," she sighed. She wouldn't eat at this rate.

"Not too pleased to see me, hmm? But I'm not really surprised," he croaked.

_There are too many damn cryptic people in this school._ "What do you mean?"

He answered her question with his own. "Seen a lot of Professor Snape lately?"

Finally the pieces clicked into place. "You told him I wasn't sleeping in the dormitory."

"Yes."

She had a wild impulse to punch the Baron, but knew it was not sensible, nor feasible. She instead kept her arms pinned to her side, her fists clenched.

"_Why?"_ she asked through her teeth.

"You shouldn't be wandering around the third corridor," he croaked simply.

Her face betrayed nothing.

"I didn't tell him, Professor Snape that is," he nodded his wigged head toward the dungeons, "as I see no reason to, as you said, punish the only good Slytherin, though I disagree somewhat."

"You were eavesdropping too!" she shook her head in irritation and pushed through the large phantom, feeling a sharp chill as she came out and continued up the stairs.

"Yes," he said as he followed her up the stairs, "as there is not much I take an interest in…"

"Glad to be your form of entertainment," she muttered.

"Still, I don't see how you can say that every Slytherin is your foe. They have simply been raised differently than you have. They are bound to their beliefs just as they are bound by blood to their family."

"Well, breaking blood bonds has never been an issue for me," she muttered darkly as they walked across the Entrance Hall.

The Baron sighed and stayed floating in the doorway to the Great Hall. Vitani continued toward the Slytherin table, eyeing the nearly empty trays of sandwiches, wraps, salads and snacks. Just as she was within reaching distance, however, the food vanished. People moved passed her on their way to class, some staring curiously as her eyes bored into the cleared, glistening golden plates. When everyone had left, she slammed her fists on the table.

"Damn it!"

**0_o**

"No surprise visitors this time Vitani?" asked Daphne as she put her small bag onto the luggage rack.

"Obviously not. I wouldn't be on the train otherwise."

"But last time you didn't know they were coming."

"True."

Vitani and Daphne had taken a compartment on the train facing Hogsmeade Station, the castle just within sight out in the distance. Today they were leaving for Easter for a much needed break away from the terrors of paper work.

"But they still assigned so much anyway!" Daphne sighed. "It won't really be much of a break."

"You'll live," _no need to tell her I'm halfway through it_, "and anyway, they're trying to prepare us for the final stretch. Revision for the exams starts the day we get back."

"At least we won't learn anything new."

"Oh no, we still learn new stuff, we just have to review now or it'll be too late," she said calmly.

"Oh!" Daphne groaned.

They stayed in the compartment, Vitani trying to cheer Daphne up, while they listened to the ruckus outside the sliding doors. It wasn't until the food trolley came around that Daphne regained her enthusiasm for break, and they played Exploding Snap and muggle poker for most of the journey. As the light began to lessen from the window, Vitani packed the cards away and began disrobing, revealing a black blouse, red jeans, and black flat boots. Daphne gave Vitani an odd once over.

"I keep forgetting you live with muggles."

"I'd need to change anyway to get through the station without being noticed. How come you're not changing?"

"My parents just apparate outside the station near a place away from muggles. The ministry marked it off for Wizarding families to use to get to King's Cross."

"Huh."

The compartment was quiet for a moment.

"So what is your family actually made of?" she asked.

"People?" said Vitani.

"No, I mean their blood status."

Vitani sighed. "I'm pureblood," she dead toned, "my father is also a pureblood. My mother is a muggle, just a muggle, my older sister is a muggle born, and my soon to be younger sibling will be a half-blood."

"Wow, your family's so mixed."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's never mattered until now."

"But what about your friends? How can they know about us?"

"I live in a very mixed neighborhood, so much so it'd be impossible to hide. Usually wizards can live in small groups within muggle villages and blocks, but every other house is pretty much magical on my street. Everyone in my village knows about witches and wizards, and most of my district knows too, so talking about it in school wasn't really a problem either."

"That's so amazing," Daphne said in wonderment. Vitani shrugged her shoulders again.

"Don't brush it off!" huffed Daphne, "it is amazing! The way my parents talk about muggles, you couldn't even hold a civil conversation without them trying to burn you at the stake!"

"And on the other side, muggles wouldn't expect your parents to be able to speak anything other than curses and hexes," Vitani grumbled. "Face the unbiased facts that your parents have been feeding you prejudiced opinions since day one. The truth of the matter is that there's good and bad on both sides, as there is with nearly everything." The train began to slow. "Come on, we need to get past all the crowds outside."

"But everyone's still in their compartments. The train needs to stop first."

"Yeah, I'm not waiting for that."

She pulled her bag with her books from the rack, and cat-Akane crawled out from under the seat she had been sleeping under. She jumped onto Vitani's shoulder as she opened the compartment door.

"Wait Vitani!" said Daphne, pulling her bag from the rack and chasing after her. The train continued to slow as Vitani calmly walked to the nearest door down the corridor, and Daphne rushed to her. Just as Vitani grabbed the door handle, the train jolted and threw Daphne forward into Vitani's back. She turned and looked at the girl fallen before her, lifted her up by her elbow, and pulled the door open.

"See you," she said, and stepped into the light of the station.

**0_o**

"_Oh yeah, we are staying right here in Retroville! All I have to do is come up with a new toy design everyday for the rest of my life."_

"God, I love Jimmy Neutron," Vitani said as she opened her can of ginger ale and guzzled it down.

"One of the last remaining shows with actual writers," nodded Emmelia.

"Not really, as it's in reruns," yawned Linus.

The two girls sighed.

It was a few days into Easter break and the trio was lounging in Vitani's living room. It was nearing noon and the entire house had a very lethargic atmosphere. Nichelle was making lunch in the kitchen, Mordecai was in his study and Roxy was taking a nap in her room.

Modecai came out from his study down the hall and drowsily stumbled into the kitchen, fumbled for a water bottle, and proceeded to the long sofa, which Vitani was dozing on. He raised one socked foot under his daughter's stomach and nudged her off the sofa and on to the carpet, and then flopped onto the sofa.

"Go help your mother in the kitchen," he yawned.

"You were _just_ in there," she groaned into the carpet.

"Go help your mother in the kitchen," he repeated feebly before completely losing consciousness.

"Hrrn," she groaned before picking herself up and dragging herself toward the kitchen. She found her mother poking toothpicks with olives into various types of sandwiches on a large tray. A large pitcher of lemonade stood next to the tray, as well as the many breads, meats, cheeses and vegetables used to make lunch. Vitani began slowly clearing the table of ingredients.

"I can understand why your father's tired, as they have him working over his break, the fiends, but I can't understand why you lot seem so lazy."

"School's a lot of work mum."

"Hmm," Nichelle huffed, crossing her arms. "You've been out for a few days now, you all should be plenty well rested. I've been on my feet day and night and I feel just springy," and to emphasize the point, she did a few small hops on her toes. "It's not even like it's too hot or cold or anything, yet you're all wasting the nice weather."

"Below ten centigrade and pouring rain isn't exactly nice weather mum," she sighed, rubbing her temples.

"I've seen you out below zero with boundless energy."

"Snow, not rain."

"You're impossible," snapped Nichelle, and quickly spun around to fiddle with the lunch tray. Vitani was becoming more and more wary of her mother as time passed, it wasn't too bad now, but at some point her mother's pregnant hormones would make the house cower in fear.

She finally put the last jar of mayo and mustard back into the fridge and turned to see her mother slightly hunched over the kitchen table breathing heavily. This was another common occurrence; Nichelle would be surging with energy at one moment and completely exhausted the next. She approached her mother intending on taking the tray from her to the living room, but froze at the sheen of sweat on her mother's brow and her harsh breathing.

"Mum?" she whispered.

"Oh," Nichelle groaned, and put a hand to her stomach, breathing harder. Vitani stared awe struck at the scene before her, and slowly it dawned on her what was happening.

"Dad… Dad! Dad, wake up!" she rushed through to the living room, shocking Linus and Emmelia out of their stupor. When he did not respond, she pounced on him and began to shake him, "Dad, damn it, wake up! Mum's in labor! Dad!"

"Huh?" he jolted up, a dazed look across his face.

"Mum's in labor!"

He stood in a flash, Vitani being knocked over again, and rushed into the kitchen. Before the trio could reach them, there was a soft murmuring and the mention of a hospital and then a loud resounding crack as they disapparated.

"They forgot us!" yelled Linus, but Vitani and Emmelia were already charging down the hallway to Roxy's room. Emmelia tried the doorknob but to no avail. So instead they pounded on the hardwood door. The door swung back violently and a hand shot out to grab Vitani's T-shirt.

"All I ask for is three days, three days from that god awful desk job, three days of paper free relaxation, three days from my idiot boss, and you've got the gull to interrupt that!" she shook her violently. She was clad in a loose lavender baby-T and gray pajama shorts, both of which were extremely wrinkled. Her curled red hair was equally rumpled and frizzy and the purple under her eyes made her look homely.

The only response Vitani could give her was, "Mum's in labor!"

As quickly as the door had opened, it was slammed instantly into their faces, and then jerked open again. The shock of the knowledge had greatly revitalized Roxanne's constitution, and she now pulled the two girls into her room. The door shut yet again, this time in Linus' face.

Roxanne quickly pulled a bra and more modest blouse from her drawer, and rushed to change. She quickly slipped on sandals as Vitani and Emmelia debriefed her on the sudden event. She did not spare her shorts a thought. Emmelia pulled Linus in the moment Roxanne was presentable, and Roxanne took Emmelia and Linus' hands in her own, and Vitani grabbed on to her arm.

"Ready?" she said.

There was no time for a response. The strong tug in their navels were pulling them in, spiraling out of control, becoming black, condensing all around, their ribcages shrinking, their eyes pulling back into their heads, until instantaneously they were righted on the tile floor of St. Mungo's lobby.


	20. Nightingale

**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit. Review.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The initial shock of apparition wore off quickly as they ran to the desk of the welcome witch. For some odd reason, Vitani barely registered seeing this witch before. She seemed to be a bit younger than her mother, with fine blonde hair and a strong jaw gained through continuous gum chewing. She was reading _Witches Weekly_ in one hand while supporting her head with the other. Roxanne approached the green clad witch and asked, in a breathless voice, "Where is the room where Nichelle DeVera was taken?"

The witch barely glanced up at Roxanne before flipping the page of the magazine and blowing a gum bubble. A rather large vein popped on Roxanne's forehead, and she snatched the magazine from the witch's hand.

"Hey! What the hell do you-"

"Shut up and do your job," Roxanne snapped. "A man apparated with a pregnant woman to here not too long ago. Where are they?"

"Kriegson ward, 4th floor," the witch scowled.

Roxanne turned and led the trio to the lift without saying thank you, passing by many shocked witches and wizards waiting in the hard chairs. Apparently no one had ever challenged the welcome bitch before.

"Wait!" the witch called, running toward the lifts, "you can't go in there while she's giving birth!"

The gate shut before she could reach them, and she watched the quartet rise out of sight. The moment the gate to the lifts opened, the group rushed down the corridor, passing by several colorfully decorated halls in the process. As they passed, Vitani noticed one with several painted balloons, stars and other shapes containing several intimidating hardwood doors. Vitani shivered as they all turned right at a corner to face the Kriegson ward. On top of each door was a small tag sticking out, displaying the patients, and head healer in charge of the room.

"Alright, look for a tag saying DeVera and call us over when you do."

The siblings took the right side of the ward while the friends took the left. They walked along each side, glancing at the tag above their heads, Hilmore, Jacobs, Willyfig, Christopher, Bollibick, and so on. When Roxanne and Vitani came to the end of their side they glanced to the left, where Linus and Emmelia had also finished their side. How could her mother not be here?

"Look again," Roxanne sighed and they all trekked back down the ward. By the fourth time, the siblings were extremely irritated with the staff of the hospital. Had the welcome witch lied? Why weren't any of the other healers passing down the ward, who were glancing oddly at them, helping? The siblings were too used to the horrid service in the hospital over the years to attempt to ask for help.

Finally a witch healer approached them from one of the other wards with a smile on her face. For some odd reason, Vitani could not help but shiver in front of the red headed witch, slightly unnerved by the look that the healer was giving her. The witch completely ignored the other three and addressed only Vitani.

"Hello," she said gently to Vitani, as though she were talking to a child, "do you need help finding something?"

"Yeah…," she said, trying not to stare into the healer's unusually bright eyes, "we're trying to find the room where Nichelle DeVera is. She was recently admitted as a mother in labor."

"I'm not sure about a Nichelle DeVera," cooed the witch, still smiling oddly at her, "but a mother was recently placed in room 424."

Before Vitani could respond, the healer took her hand and led her away from the others, down the left side of the ward to the end. She glanced back at Roxanne, Linus and Emmelia with wide eyes; the others could only shrug and follow. Finally they reached the second to last door, where the tag above read,

PATIENTS:

_Kirk_

_Rose_

_Selwyn_

HEADHEALER:

_Katherine Holme_

"The hell?" Vitani gasped as she read the tag, "why does it say Selwyn!"

Roxanne glared at the tag above them, "I know dad had difficulties with changing his name at the Ministry, but this is ridiculous. For one, it was all resolved years ago, for another, it's not like _he's_ the patient." She shook her head angrily and made a move toward the door, but the red headed healer caught her hand.

"You cannot go in there," said the healer darkly.

"Let go of my wrist!" Roxanne snapped, snatching her hand away.

"Why can't we go in!" challenged Vitani.

The healer turned to Vitani, the eerie smile back in place. "I'm sorry dear," she cooed, "but only adults can be in the room right now. All the patients in this room are going through a very stressful process right now and they need quiet."

From the door behind the healer they heard a loud yell and a crash, a string of profanities and an ever growing chant of "this is ALL YOUR FAULT YOU $ #%!"

"_Y__eah_, nice and quiet," Linus smiled narrowly at the healer.

"You said adults right? Then let me through," Roxanne tried to get pass the healer but was blocked yet again.

Her smile was wide and nasty, "I cannot let strangers see the patients."

"I'm her daughter! Move!"

"I'm sorry," though her face told them she was anything but, "I cannot let you-"

But the door was thrown open and the healer fell backward onto her bottom. Towering above her in the door way was Mordecai, looking highly agitated and wary, his brow puckered and his muscles tense.

"Get in here you lot," he said as he swiftly returned to the nearest bed, where Nichelle was resting, her legs already propped up and a monitor cuff and several small patches wrapped around her arm. There were no IV needles in her, yet the IV drips beside her slowly drained without any leaks; nor was there anything connecting the cuff to the small odd black board above her head, that looked as though an invisible hand was drawing her heart rate and vitals. Despite the sweat and the clenching of her fists, she managed to smile at them. Mordecai placed his hand into her clenched one. They all stepped over the fallen healer, Linus and Emmelia sticking their tongues out at her as they passed.

"Hello!" Nichelle gasped as another contraction hit her.

"Does it hurt Mum?" Vitani whispered worriedly.

"Not really," Nichelle sighed, "It's more the surprise than anything else. Everything is still so random; my contractions haven't become regular yet" her voice dropped to a murmur, "I'm not nearly as bad as Mrs. Rose in the last bed. She's already been here for eight hours, the poor thing."

"Is she the one that cursed out her husband?" Emmelia murmured back.

"Aye, that'd be her," said a voice from behind.

The quartet turned to an older redheaded healer, her wrinkled eyes hidden behind large shining glasses. She was probably in her sixties, and her auburn braid looked much more natural and friendlier than the violent red-orange of the healer now dusting the bottom of her robes.

"Your children I take it?" she looked toward Nichelle and Mordecai but did not wait for a response, "Not a problem, not a problem, they can stay 'til the more serious contractions come."

"But Katherine, they can't be allowed in, they're not-"

"They are the worried children of a pregnant mother, Miss Roy! I am in charge of this room and a part of this ward; I suggest you go back to your own ward and get back to your own patients. And address your superiors correctly!"

Two assistant healers rushed to Helena Roy's side and gently shoved her from the room, and then scurried back to the bedside of Mrs. Rose. Mr. Rose was standing next to the bed, looking to be in just as much pain as Mrs. Rose; every once and awhile an assistant would point his or her wand at Mr. Rose's ever breaking hand.

Vitani heard Healer Holm mutter something along the lines of "lackeys," before she turned to face the family again. "You'll have to forgive the staff; despite this being a hospital, we seem to be in the midst of a turf war," she shook her head in disgust. "I need to attend to Mrs. Rose and Mrs. Kirk. When you feel any stronger contractions or feel them coming quicker together, please feel free to call any assistants or me over."

"Thank you," said Nichelle as Healer Holm passed by the curtain separating her from the other mothers. The moment Holm left their view, Mordecai sighed.

"I need to leave," he said, glancing as his wife.

She squeezed his hand, but not because of the pain. "I know."

"Where are you going Dad?" asked Roxanne and Vitani together.

"To fix that," he said, pointing to the black board above Nichelle's bed. Along with her vitals, her name was also displayed in elegant cursive handwriting, _Nichelle J. Selwyn._

"They messed up the documental spell at the Ministry," he scowled.

"The what?" asked the trio.

"The documental spell is a spell that connects all documents of the same name to the same family and the same accounts," said Roxanne. "It chains together receipts, medical documents, financial reports, business documents, any type of legal document to the person who signs it. It makes it easier for the Ministry to sort and file, and makes creating new documents more efficient and automatic. The problem here is it's predetermined in terms of marital documents. The system automatically places the birth names of the couple on the marriage notice, and assumes the woman will take the man's name. Dad changed his name before they got married and all of his documents are fine, but the system didn't transfer the change to Mum."

"And if it stays like this, the baby will have the same last name too," Mordecai scowled again, "and hell if I'm going to let that happen." He put a hand on Vitani and Roxanne's shoulders. "Stay with your mother, I'll be back."

He strode from the room with a determined air, and just as the door closed on him, they all heard a resounding crack. The timing was spot on, as just at that moment Mrs. Rose had decided to verbally abuse her husband again.

"This is going to be a very strange Holy Saturday, isn't it?" murmured Linus to Emmelia.

"Yes, yes it is."

**0_o**

They spent the majority of their time in the company of Nichelle and the many healers that rushed to and fro around the room. Healer Holm was constantly conjuring more supplies: clean towels, water basins, clothes and oils and powders, and vanishing soiled supplies. She also periodically refilled the mysterious IV drips, the trio now realizing that the IVs were slowly transferring their contents magically directly into the patients' body without the use of needles or tubing. She swished her wand around the room, fluffing pillows and changing sheets and wiping foreheads of their sweat. The woman was so energetic that her scurrying assistants looked like lazy bums in comparison. She was so vigorous in her work that the siblings and friends were getting more of a sweat from watching her than she herself.

When they were able to pull their eyes away from Holm, they took it upon themselves to entertain not only each other but Nichelle as well, whose pain steadily grew as time went on. They played poker for a few rounds with cards and chips that Roxy had conjured, but just as Linus was about to place his third wining hand, they had been rushed from the room as Mrs. Rose, after two hours from their entrance, began to give her final weak contractions before the more serious stage of birth. After another hour of waiting outside, the girls with their ears to the door, Linus across the wing trying not to gag, they were allowed back into the room, now smelling strongly of disinfectant potion and missing one of its occupants.

"She was moved to another room for alone time, as well as not to disturb the remaining patients," Holm said before they could ask, "Usually we have one mother per room, but there are many mothers coming in this week; 'tis the season to have children, or so it seems." She placed her wrinkled palm over Nichelle's forehead and looked up at her vitals. Nichelle's breathing was more laborious now, and the contractions were coming more frequently, but otherwise she did not seem close to birth.

"I'll be with Mrs. Kirk if you need me," and Nichelle weakly nodded.

The quartet did not have much time to settle back, yet another hour had passed when they were rushed from the room for Mrs. Kirk's birthing. When they were finally allowed back in, only Nichelle was left, her bed now in the center of the room. From then on the quartet spent their time talking with Nichelle, attempting to distract her from the now rapidly increasing pain. They stumbled from topic to topic rather clumsily until they settled on the subject of names.

"Oh, I don't know, I mean, your father and I ha-HAVE been tossing things around," she said as another contraction hit, and Vitani and Roxanne rubbed her arms soothingly.

"Do you think it will be a girl or a boy?" asked Emmelia.

We-WELL, we'll be happy for either, though Mordecai might feel better with another man in the house."

"What will you name him if he's a boy?"

"Well, we talked about Mason, Michael, Max, or maybe Monty…"

"Y'know, maybe it's just me, but I'm sensing some sort of pattern here," Linus grinned.

"All the girl names wouldn't happen to start with 'N', would they?" laughed Emmelia.

"They might… OH!" Nichelle gasped as a particular harsh contraction passed. Vitani and Roxanne glanced worriedly at each other and at the clock across the room.

"Dad still isn't back yet."

"I know," sighed Roxanne, "we just have to stay with Mum for as long as we can until he gets back."

It had now been seven hours since they had entered the hospital and Mordecai had disappeared. Was it so hard to get this simple mistake fixed?

"Lord knows they got him knee deep in paper work for this tiny problem," Roxanne grimaced.

Emmelia was fiddling her thumbs and watching them as though the hands belonged to someone else. Linus, with such a low tolerance for tension, turned to the girl and asked, "And what are you so worked up about?"

She glanced at him for a moment before turning to Roxanne. "Roxy, why is your father so stressed about his surname?"

Her face darkened slightly, and she glanced at Holm, preparing supplies across the room, before answering, "For the same reason you don't have too many Hitler's or Stalin's running around. In the magical world, Selwyn is a name synonymous with Death Eater. Dad didn't want that image imprinted on us…" she took a deep breath, "and it's bad for his work and privacy as well. No one would make a potential Voldy-drone an auror, or any ministry job for that matter. And when all the documents he signs are charmed with the documental spell, he doesn't want his name to be linked with any other Selwyn's, in fear that they could gain access to them."

"Gain access?" asked Vitani.

Roxanne shook her head, "It has been thought that unwanted family members may be able to access certain files because of the documental spell. Family has always been important to wizards, who are so few in number. The ministry adopted this ideal, thinking that such a problem would be unlikely to occur."

"Shows what they know," scoffed Linus.

"It is this same ideal, that nearly prevented you from seeing your mother today," came Holm from behind them. They turned to see her approaching Nichelle, swishing her wand to wipe the sweat from her head and fluff the pillows and glance at her vitals.

"What do you mean?" said Roxanne.

"The two of you are not her biological children. Even if you were the children of the father, Healer Roy would still have been unlikely to let you through. She, as well as my…_coworker, _Healer Norlin, and her other underlings believe that blood means family and nothing else."

"That's horrible!" gasped Emmelia.

"Especially since she commonly works with orphaned children," huffed Holm. "Sometimes I cannot understand that woman, someone who scorns the same people she takes care of."

Nichelle watched as the four talked together, and glanced at her silent child holding her hand. Vitani was holding it tight, her head down, staring out into nothingness. "Are you alright Tani?" she whispered to her daughter.

Vitani looked up to her mother and their eyes locked. For a fleeting instant, Nichelle thought she saw an intense pain in her daughter's eyes not seen in years, but before she could really be sure, the instant passed.

"I'm just worried about you and Dad," she said softly.

Nichelle studied her daughter for a long time, their eyes still locked. Then, just a murmur, "I'll never let that woman come near you again, Tani."

She stared at her mother but said nothing.

In the distance a clock chimed midnight. Healer Holm finally broke away from the discussion and put her hand on Nichelle's stomach.

"The babe is ready and in position," she began, "all we need is a nice, strong contraction to get things going."

"OH!" gasped Nichelle, and cringed in pain and began to pant heavily.

The quartet was quite startled but Holm simply picked her hand up from Nichelle's stomach and stared at it. "I really should stop saying that."

"I'd say so," deadpanned Mordecai, rushing from the door.

"Dad!" the two daughters exclaimed.

"Later," he hushed, "you lot need to leave."

"Good!" said Linus, catching the door before in swung closed, "I don't need to stay; I'm not the man here."

"It's not like you ever were," muttered Emmelia, following behind. Linus leered at her.

"So squeamish for a scientist," Roxanne shook her head, softly closing the door.

"I do the hard sciences, and I'm only 11."

"Yet you _do_ the _hard_ sciences," chuckled Vitani.

"Oh, shut up," he scowled while the three girls quietly chuckled.

"Wait, I though biology was one of the hard sciences," said Emmelia.

"Fine, whatever, I give up," sighed Linus.

They quieted down then, and stood listening to the silent hall of the hospital. Visiting hours had long since ended and most of the patients were most likely asleep. They sat on the floor against the wall, trying to keep each other awake; the tension had been much greater in the room than out.

For about half an hour they sat in peaceful silence, occasionally watching a random healer pass through, until Vitani asked, "I wonder if Mum's alright."

"Dunno," shrugged Roxanne, "this is her first birth, after all."

As she was about to respond, Vitani heard faint footsteps coming from the corner.

"Indecent, can't even dress properly, and completely rude."

"He mother is in labor, Helena, she'd probably rush from her home naked if she needed to."

"Her _mother,_ what a laugh."

The two voices turned the corner and hushed as they spied the four looking at them. The Healer Roy approached them with an air of contempt, while a smaller, mousy brunette reluctantly followed her. Clutched in her hands was a lumpy gray clothing of some sort. Healer Roy stopped in front of Roxanne and stared down at her. From Vitani's perspective, it looked as though the healer quite enjoyed the height difference. The brunette stopped slightly behind her.

"Your dress is not appropriate for this facility and is causing disturbances," Roy said calmly, though there was a vicious gleam in her eye, "you are to put on this garment immediately," she gestured to the other healer. The mousy healer nervously held out the gray lump to Roxanne. She calmly took it from her without breaking eye contact with Roy. The gray lump was actually a pair of muggle sweatpants. They were rather worn and ratty, and looked to be three times Roxanne's size. There was a hole in the right knee of the pants, and a highly suspicious green stain on the bottom hem of the legs.

Roxanne stood and Roy slightly grimaced; Roxanne was an inch taller than she was. She kept calmly staring at Roy for a long moment, enough for the healer to start edging away from Roxanne. And then she flipped Roy the bird.

The mousy healer gasped and Roy cried "Why you little!" but then the door swung open, and Mordecai ordered them inside. The two healers were left outside, gaping at the door.

"Causing a disturbance in an empty hallway, gosh!" huffed Emmelia.

"Whatever, Roxy effectively handled the situation," said Linus.

"Shush!" hushed Vitani, while she watched Roxanne inconspicuously kick the sweatpants under her mother's bed.

They all approached Nichelle's bed where Mordecai was now rubbing his wife's shoulders. In her arms in a small blue towel was a small red face with a fluff of chestnut hair, matching exactly to the awestruck mother holding the bundle. The baby opened its eyes and deep blue gems appeared.

"Congratulations," said Healer Holm softly, "It's a girl."

"Oh," Nichelle whimpered, tears starting to form. Mordecai hugged her close. "She's so beautiful."

"Our new sister…" Roxy murmured, grasping Vitani's hand tightly.

"Yeah," she mumbled without taking her eyes from the tiny baby.

"She's so small," Linus whispered.

"We were all that small once," Emmelia said quietly. Then she asked, a little louder, "what's her name?"

Nichelle gazed up at her husband before she returned her eyes to her new daughter. A small hand came out from the blanket and captured Nichelle's finger. Her lips parted, and everyone leaned in to hear.

"Nightingale."

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**Hi, been awhile since I've left any comment. I wonder if anyone notices the (not so subtle) references I put in this story. Oh well. By the way, I know wizards curse funnily with words like "Merlin's Pants!" and such, but since Roxy and Tani are raised in a more muggle setting, they curse as such. One last thing, PLEASE review. Good, bad, anything. I need feedback.**


	21. The Nuisance with Norbert

**Disclaimer: Is there actually a point to putting this here? I mean, it's a fan fiction site, I would hope the original authors knew I'm not trying to steal their work.**

* * *

"Now, I want this to be completely understood. Under absolutely no circumstances is Vitani's, as well as any other student, staff or faculty's, life to be threatened in this castle. The founders erected this school as a place of unity of learning and ideologies, not as a battleground and as such, any physical, mental or verbal acts of violence will not be tolerated in this school. Any such acts will garner detentions, suspensions and expulsions from Hogwarts. This proclamation is neither new nor original; it has always been a part of the foundation of order in this school. This is your first and only warning; heed it."

It was the first night back. Dumbledore stared out among the Slytherins spread throughout the common room. His usual ice-blue eyes were particularly cool as he spoke to them, and Vitani, standing next to Snape off to the side, could not think of a time he looked this grim except when the troll had broken into the castle. His strong voice, stance and gaze commanded all attention; even Malfoy and Pansy were somber and quiet as Dumbledore finished. He turned to address Snape.

"I would like a word with you in private, Professor Snape."

Snape gave a small curt nod and both exited through the stonewall to Snape's office across the corridor. The moment the wall sealed behind them the somber illusion shattered. It was as though they had all jolted from a deep sleep. She suspected that many of the Slytherins were more like opossums than snakes.

There was an instance of hesitation before the Slytherins jumped near Vitani, but Farley and Korn got between them.

"Suspensions and expulsions aren't a joke. Don't make an enemy out of someone that isn't a threat to you. You disagree, so what, big deal, you don't have to kill her over it. Get over yourselves; you're blowing this thing up out of proportion. Just ignore her, and if I hear one word of protest I'll hex you."

The Slytherins stared at the rigid, cross-armed stance of Gemma and Gary flexing his biceps, and grumbled as they all left the common room to their dorms. Vitani sighed as the last of the students filed through the doors. At that point she felt an arm being placed on the top of her head. Gemma was so much taller than she was; _most _people were taller than she was, so Gemma was using her head as an armrest.

"It's only your first year and already you're causing a ruckus," she said as she gave Vitani a noogie, "freshmen are so irritating."

Vitani released herself from Gemma's grasp and shook her hair back into place.

"Thanks so much Gemma; it's nice to hear you have so much faith in me."

"But I mean, seriously! You're like the cause of all the disruption in this house!" she laughed.

"I didn't exactly plan on turning the house upside-down."

"It is not your fault, this would have happened eventually."

They both turned to Korn, who was gazing out of one of the portholes into the murky lake water.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

He continued to stare out into the dark water and spoke.

"It is not uncommon for snakes, as well as consuming other animals, to hunt down their own."

He stood still, silently gazing into the water for a long moment as the two girls watched him. Then he turned swiftly, causing them to flinch, and made his way toward the boy's dorm. The two girls turned toward each other, one tiny, one tall, their eyebrows rose in bemusement.

Vitani broke the gaze and walked toward her dorm, Gemma following behind. She opened the first year door to be met with hushed whispers. When she closed the door behind her the whispers stopped. Pansy, Tracey and Millicent were all turned away from her, quietly unpacking the few belongings they had brought back home with them. Daphne was sitting on her bed watching them. She gave Vitani a sideward glance and shrugged.

It was going to be a very interesting spring.

* * *

It was on her way from Herbology that she saw him.

She had never gotten to know the gatekeeper other than the time he had brought all the first years to the castle. She saw him occasionally tending to the grounds, coming from the forest and at the staff table. A few times he had come over to the Gryffindor table when she had been there to talk to Harry and his friends. Without any real conversations with the overgrown man, she could only gather that he was a gentle giant, and overly friendly with the Gryffindors. Harry, Ron and Hermione certainly seemed to like him.

So it was odd when she saw him that morning, acting uncharacteristically secretive as he trekked across the grounds from the gates of the school to his small home. Rather than his usual open, gigantic person tromping away to work, he was slightly hunched over, futilely attempting to make himself look smaller, something clutched in his arms. It would have been quite comical if it were not so suspicious; he kept sweeping his large shaggy head left and right as though searching for onlookers, and then quickly slammed his door behind him.

She was not the only one to notice his odd behavior. The Slytherins took it for sport and all cackled as they began to verbally abuse the giant buffoon. The Hufflepuffs whispered to each other, confused and slightly afraid of the man they had thought was an open and jolly fellow.

She mentally scoffed at them. Probably he was hiding some personal secret, nothing incriminating or frightening enough to garner such attention. And her point was proven when at lunch, Hagrid acted just as he always had.

Her point was disproven several days later, however, as she watched the golden trio grumble into their common room. She had been squished between the twins on one of the plush red loveseats near the fire, showing them some of the manga she had brought back from home. They had become entirely fascinated by the Hitachiin twins in _Ouran __High School Host Club_, and wandered off with the first few volumes. As they trooped up the staircase the golden trio approached.

"I can't believe it, I can't bloody believe it."

"Ron, hush, you're attracting too much attention."

"I can't _bloody_ believe it."

"Believe it!" Vitani exclaimed as she threw one of her manga books into Ron's face.

"Ouch! What'd you do that for?" he scowled as Harry chuckled at the book in Ron's hands, "and what are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing at Vitani's choice of throwing object," he said as he took the _Naruto_ volume from his friend's hands, "Very appropriate Vitani."

"I try," she shrugged her shoulders, "and what is Miss Scarlet so excited about?"

Ron scowled again at the pet name and was about to retort when Hermione cut in, "It's nothing."

"Nothing is never actually nothing, in fact, nothing is usually something very, very important." She narrowed her eyes at Hermione, "You know I'll just get Harry to tell me."

"He wouldn't dare," she huffed and then both girls turned to glare at Harry.

"Uhh…" he gulped.

"Harry," Vitani began, "I suppose you've read _Ouran Host Club_ at some point."

"I might have," he said, bemused at the sudden change in conversation.

"Then I hope you know it won't take much to connect you to Haruhi and have the Weasley twins torture you for the rest of your school career."

His eyes grew to the size of saucers in terror, "What are you implying?"

"I just gave Fred and George the volumes. It won't be long before they pick up the Hitachiin twin antics as their own. They may even see you as Haruhi before I even suggest it.

Harry shivered at that point and his eye began to twitch, no doubt imagining the horror that would befall on him. Ron, who had steadily become more confused as the conversation went on, was now completely baffled and stood there, watching his best friend fight off his imagination. Hermione's eye was also twitching, but in irritated astonishment.

"You gave them something that will make them act out even more?! As if they weren't completely out of control before?!" she gritted through her teeth.

"It could be worse, I could have given them some volumes of _Bobobo-Bo-Bobobo."_

Hermione immediately turned to Harry, not knowing but guessing what that meant. Harry's face completely blanched and he hugged himself, before a massive tremor swept through him. He looked like was going to go into shock.

Hermione turned back to Vitani looking positively frightened and defeated.

"Fine, we'll tell you."

A few minutes later she sat on the loveseat, completely and utterly baffled.

"He has a…"

"Yeah."

"And he won it in a…"

"Uh huh."

"And he's gonna raise…"

"Yep."

"In a wooden house?"

"That's what _I_ said," grumbled Hermione, shaking her head in irritation. "He's got some, _some_ cooked up fantasy about _raising_ it like his _baby_! You should have seen him gazing at it in the fire, like a blooming mother!"

"He's completely mental," Ron summed.

"He can't really help it, it's been his childhood dream having a dragon. Maybe this experience will snap him out of it," shrugged Harry.

"Harry, I don't think you really understand the problem here," stressed Vitani. "This isn't Puff the Magic Dragon or a cute, orange Dragonite or small, injured Toothless; this thing's going to get _huge, fast._ It's going to be sneezing fireballs every which way and biting everything within reach. Before long it will go from breaking fingers to breaking skulls, tearing the curtains to tearing our skin, and sweeping the floor with us with its tail. It'll outgrow Hagrid's house in a month, and that's if it doesn't burn it down first. Dragons are way too ferocious to deal with; even Hagrid won't be able to keep up with the creature. Of all the dangerous beasts he could have brought home, it had to be an illegal dragon."

From the trepidation on his face, it looked like she'd made her point completely clear.

That aside, it wasn't like she was going to miss the opportunity to see a dragon hatching.

"I mean, it can't be so dangerous newly hatched, can it?" Ron had asked Hermione a few mornings later. A note had come from Hagrid and Harry had called Vitani over from the Ravenclaw table.

"That doesn't matter, we can't just skive off Herbology!"

Luckily Vitani didn't have this problem. She was free from her potions class with the Ravenclaws today. Someone had attempted mixing some rather lethal ingredients yesterday and the dungeons were still being aired out.

"Come on Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

At that moment Vitani took the liberty of elbowing Ron in the gut.

"The hell-"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

They could see Malfoy a few feet away, paused, his head tilted toward their conversation. How much had the little rat heard? He had a rather wicked expression that she didn't particularly like.

The golden trio went off to Herbology after breakfast, Ron and Hermione bickering all the way out the Great Hall. Vitani went down back to the dungeons to her dorm to retrieve an enchanted camera and cat-Akane, and made her way back up and onto the grounds. She trekked across the grounds, passing some older students who had off, and approached the large, roughed wooden door to Hagrid's cabin. She gave three loud raps on the door, but Hagrid did not open it right away.

"Who is it?"

Vitani nodded to Akane and the cat opened its mouth.

"It's us Hagrid, let us in," came the perfect imitation of Harry's voice.

Hagrid immediately opened the door with a beaming smile, but frowned when he saw only tiny Vitani and her cat standing in front of him.

"Err… yeh're not Harry," he said, confused.

"I am not," she said simply.

"Uh… wha' d'you want?"

"Harry and co. are at Herbology. They said they'd come during break to see the… well, you know."

His eyebrows rose, "Yeh know 'bout the dra-"

"Yes!" she cut in quickly, "so let's not keep the door open for too long, 'kay?"

"Well, alrigh'," he shrugged, turning back into his cabin, "but, could yeh keep yer cat outside, gives me the sniffles."

"What cat?"

"The cat on yer shoul-" he turned back to her and flinched when he saw, not a black cat hanging on her shoulder, but a small black dog.

Hagrid blinked, bamboozled, "there was a cat on yer shoulder."

"There's a flat-coated retriever puppy on my shoulder," she said as said puppy jumped off and scrambled on its little paws toward the sleeping boarhound in Hagrid's cabin.

Hagrid shrugged his shoulder's, "Alrigh' then."

The entirety of the wooden house was a single room. To one side was a large bed with a patchwork quilt draped over it. Out the back door she could see a rather large garden and several chickens scratching at the dirt. Several pots, pans and kettles stood near an open fire, where the large black dragon egg lied, a long crack scarring the surface.

"Be an hour or so, enough time for the others to get here," he said with a bounce in his step. "Can I offer you some tea and scones?"

She accepted the tea but quickly gave up on the rock hard scones that nearly chipped her teeth. She made small talk with him as she set up her camera. She set a small timer on the camera to take a photo every few seconds so later she could turn it into a sort of flipbook. She would send it to her friends back home.

An hour passed and the five sat, gathered around the table Hagrid had just set the egg on. The dragon was only one crack away from being free. There was a sudden scraping noise and then the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table, its limp black body resting from its tiresome task of hatching. It was oddly proportioned; its bat-like wings were much too large for its slim body, its tail too long, its nostrils too wide and its orange eyes almost bulging from its head. It sneezed and a couple of sparks flew out of its snout. If it weren't for the fact it would turn into a vicious monster in a matter of weeks, she'd almost think it was cute.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face; he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains- it's a kid- he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out, and from Vitani's seat she could see his fist clench.

"It's Malfoy."

* * *

The next week was nothing if not a stressful nightmare. When they weren't sneaking between classes and breaks to help Hagrid with the vicious black reptile, they were tiptoeing through the day avoiding Malfoy's mischievous eyes. As the days went on the black terror, or Norbert as Hagrid liked to call the creature, grew more rapidly; it tripled in size by Thursday, its fangs lengthen, and its claws sharpened against Hagrid's floorboards. Hagrid's house had become a disaster zone of wood chips, chicken feathers and blood. But the worst part about the week was Hagrid's ever-growing enthusiasm. The more aggressive Norbert became, the more motherly Hagrid acted.

"I expected Hagrid to know better than this," Vitani said one day when Ron came into Charms with a crude bandage over a rather vicious looking bite, "I'd have thought he be more careful with the creature, know its mindset."

"Hah! He's plenty careful with that monster; he didn't even care when it bit me. He treats that thing like his own baby," scowled Ron, hugging his hand to his chest.

"That's my point; for someone who's always wanted a dragon, he sure doesn't know how to take care of it."

"The dragon looks pretty happy to me…" muttered Ron.

"Physically, not mentally. Dragons are precocial, the mother takes care of them as eggs, but the moment they hatch she ditches them and the hatchlings fend for themselves. Norbert isn't taking to Hagrid's overbearing affection because that mother-child bond is lost to dragons. More than likely Norbert sees Hagrid as a giant hindrance from what it wants to do most, tear apart small mammals and begin teaching itself to fly."

"Well that's just dandy and all, but it's not like Hagrid can just let loose Norbert on the grounds," said Hermione.

"It doesn't matter," muttered Harry, watching Malfoy watch them, "we have a plan."

"Hmm."

They told her about Ron's brother later at dinner that day, and the plan to send Norbert off to Romania. At the same time, Vitani gave Hermione a large urn like bottle for her and Harry's future visits with Norbert.

"It contains a lethal concentration of the Draught of Living Death. Well… its lethal to humans. It should keep Norbert asleep for at least a few hours and calm a few more. Just pore a little on the rats Hagrid gives to him."

The days kept counting down to the time Norbert would be gone. The date had finally been set to Saturday, and while the golden trio waited for the two dreadful weeks to be over, Vitani kept an eye on Malfoy. She followed him from classrooms and through corridors several feet behind, one or twice intercepted by Pansy's gang. For the moment, it looked as though Malfoy was simply keeping them all in suspense. On Friday, the day before Norbert's send off, she highly suspected that Malfoy in fact had no intention of telling any of the teachers about the dragon, when she overheard a conversation in the common room.

"Sure, I mean, I could tell the teachers, but would they really believe me? All the staff's too friendly with that oaf, and Snape might take DeVera's side if she said anything," at that point he'd turned in her direction across the room, making sure she was focused on the homework she was doing and then continued, "in any case, I need to catch them with the thing. For now, I can just keep them on their toes," he smirked wickedly and Crabbe and Goyle cackled softly.

Still she watched him from the corner of her eye as she went through her day, still with the same devilish smirk plastered on his face. At the same time, horrid news had come from the trio. Ron was in the hospital wing with a green swelled hand. What's worse, Malfoy had taken the chance when Vitani had to fend off Pansy to bully Ron in the hospital wing and had left with the knowledge of Saturday's plan. There was nothing they could do; Saturday was already upon them.

Harry and Hermione had used the urn of draught to great effect and they brought it with them to Hagrid's Saturday night. Vitani could see the doors of the castle open and close from one of the high windows on the fourth floor. More than likely it was they under Harry's cloak. A moment later they disappeared into Hagrid's cabin. She herself was draped in her own black cloak, Akane, blending into the shadows of the corridors. She waited near the staircase and watched for the two to come from Hagrid's cabin. Just as they'd entered the castle again, Malfoy appeared, sneaking up the opposite staircase steps on his way to the Astronomy tower.

_Oh no you don't, _she thought, taking off toward him. As she dashed from shadow to shadow she passed by McGonagall's office and paused. Malfoy was taking his time, trying to be quiet rather than quick. In a few moments he would pass by her office door and go up the next flight of stairs. Standing between the door and the stair was a suit of armor, gleaming in the moonlight from the window. She could hear Malfoy's steps coming around the corner and she darted behind the armor, holding her breath. When he passed and started up the stairs she came from her hiding place. She placed her right foot solid against the back of the armor and shoved. The resounding noise was earth shattering in the still of night, the metal clangs echoing through the castle. Vitani darted away and watched from the corner. She had achieved her desired effect; she heard Malfoy stumble on the steps just as Professor McGonagall leapt from her office, clad in tartan bathrobe, and ran in the direction of the noise. Moments later and McGonagall had him by the ear, yelling at his feeble attempts to save himself from detention.

She chuckled to herself and heard others behind her do the same. She stood still in place as something whooshed by her and she could hear the quiet snarls of Norbert under the cloak. Her job seemed to be done as she watched the tower hatch open and close quietly. She waited there, just incase someone or something passed by, but all was quiet in the corridor. She slumped against the wall; tired from the stress, grateful she had Sunday to sleep. From her place near the stair, she heard the faintest meow.

She lifted her head to see the bright yellow eyes of Mrs. Norris, her eyesight easily spotting Vitani in the shadows. She darted away just as Vitani whispered, "Stop her!"

Akane transformed into her fox form and darted after the cat, growling down the staircase. Vitani, now without her cloak, also ran down the steps and hid in the first place she could find, a small abandoned classroom on the sixth floor. Five minutes later Akane, scratching and whining at the door to be let in, joined her. A moment later and she heard the gentle padding of paws and the thumping of human feet as they raced up the steps. Yet another moment later she heard multiple sets of feet march down the steps and pass by the door. She peeked outside just as they began to descend the next staircase. Filch was herding Harry and Hermione down, with Mrs. Norris trailing behind. There was no sign of Norbert. They had succeeded, but at what cost?

* * *

**Yes, some snakes **_**do**_** eat other snakes, notably the king cobra and a few others. Snakes, especially large ones, also have a habit of eating large prey including, but not limited to, lion cubs, eagles and badgers (hint hint).**

**All the dragons I listed are: Puff the magic dragon (duh), Dragonite (Pokémon), and Toothless (how to train your dragon-movie/TV). Hopefully someone got at least one reference.**

** Because Akane can transform into others, people included, she can also mimic voices.**


	22. Accusations

**Enjoy and review**

* * *

The next day was a brilliant blue morning, the birds chirping melodiously and the air cool and crisp. Vitani awoke late that Sunday, fully refreshed from her midnight trip, and trekked up the dungeon stairs with cat-Akane for breakfast. The mood she met as she entered the Great Hall was bleak and dismal compared to the azure sky above. It almost seemed to be mocking them all.

The Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables all simmered with contempt and rage as she passed. She reluctantly joined the unusually cheerful Slytherin table, very confused by the hall's current atmosphere. She sat next to Daphne and reached for some bacon and eggs, somewhat in a daze. Pansy and co. weren't even badgering her for joining the table they were so ecstatic.

"Daphne, why are the other tables so doom and gloom while the Slytherins look like they've been given a lethal dosage of dopamine?"

"Huh?"

"Why are they so happy," she deadpanned.

"Oh," Daphne blushed, "well, I'm not really sure what happened, but yesterday the Gryffindors were in first place and today they're in last, and it seems to be Harry's fault." She seemed to be having trouble controlling her expression; her face would rapidly change from unbridled happiness to nervous worry, "I'm happy that we're in the lead again, but everyone seems to be taking their anger out on Harry and his friends."

Most of the people were clearing out at this point, having already finished breakfast. Daphne and the others left for the common room while Vitani continued eating. When she was done, she left for the Entrance Hall for a look at the house hourglasses. The four opposing glass structures were towering, stretching at least ten feet tall. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and citrines stood in each respective house glass. Daphne was right, as she stared at the glasses with a few others, the ruby filled hourglass that had been nearly filled now only contained less than half of the glass. The sapphire and citrine filled hourglasses were nearly equal, the sapphires piled an inch higher than the citrines, but both were far below the emeralds, only five inches away from filling the top.

While the students beside her scowled and grimaced up at the hourglasses, Vitani felt herself feeling apathetic. She had never given the point system a great deal of thought after the third month of school, realizing the more negative impacts the system had on the students' attitudes. Sure, competition was a good stimulant for hard workers, but it seemed to cause much more grief and misdemeanors in Hogwarts, especially between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. It didn't help that Crabbe and Goyle had lost most of the points she had garnered. The only thing she could think of now, as a few of the gems dropped down and flew up into the hourglasses, was how horrible Harry and Hermione must feel for being caught, though they were doing a service rather than a misdeed.

The next week continued on as though Sunday had never ended. All the houses continued to ostracize Harry, Hermione and (she later learned) Neville, while the Slytherins praised Harry for his wonderful, though still unknown, failure. If Vitani thought she could cheer them up she was sadly mistaken. They didn't want comfort from a Slytherin, who they saw as giving pity. Even Neville, who had taken great comfort from her presence in front of other Slytherins, would only mumble a few words to her during class. The three shrunk into themselves; they didn't want to draw attention. As such, Vitani spent most of the final weeks of school with the Slytherins, whose cheerfulness had ostracized themselves from the other houses. Even the piles upon piles of revision work could barely suppress their enthusiasm; this would be their eighth year winning the House Cup.

So, Vitani ended up spending the majority of her time with Daphne, in the common room, at the library, on the grounds. It wasn't that she was boring or anything, but it seemed to Vitani that they were either both studying or she was attempting to explain muggle references, media and technologies to the ignorant girl. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know these things, but it was certainly easier to get a laugh from Harry and even Hermione than it was from Daphne. In a sense, Vitani was also being punished for her midnight trip by being stripped from most of her friends.

It was several weeks later, less than a week before exams, that she finally caught a break. She and Daphne were studying for transfiguration under a large oak near the lake. They were practicing turning Hercules beetles into lumps of coal and back again. After her tenth successful transformation she sat with her beetle, feeding it honey she had taken from the table. Daphne's coal still had a rather large horn on it. After Vitani changed the coal back for her, a disgruntled Daphne brought the beetles back to McGonagall just as Harry approached. He sat next to her without looking at her and stared out over the lake. People turned their heads away when they saw him; he was still disfavored by the student body. Finally he turned to her.

"I need to tell you something."

He spoke about his detention the night before, how he, Malfoy, Hermione and Neville had joined Hagrid in his search for the wounded unicorn and how he had seen the horrid creature that had killed it. He then went on to tell of his revelation with Firenze, a centaur he'd met, and his discussion with Ron and Hermione about Voldemort's possible resurrection.

They sat there in silence afterward as the world continued on without them. Finally Vitani spoke.

"I realize that Snape loves to waltz around the castle in his dark cloak planning your demise, but that doesn't mean he's working for Voldemort."

"But he's tried to get the stone before! I've seen and heard him torment Quirrell for answers; I've seen the bite on his leg! There's only Fluffy left to stop him now, since Quirrell seems to have given up, and there has to be a way to get past the beast. It'll be a breeze for Snape; he'll get the stone and bring it to his master with a flourish and a gleam in his eye. To think I thought he just wanted the thing for money."

"The teachers are paid quite well here, especially with Dumbledore as Headmaster," she said gently, "Harry, I'll put this bluntly; you're letting your displeasure with Snape corrupt your reasoning. Snape is as likely to betray Dumbledore as Filch is to give candy to the students."

"I saw him running up to the third floor corridor when the troll got into the dungeons!"

"Isn't it possible he was checking to see if anyone was already up there, using the troll as a distraction?"

"_He_ was using it as a distraction! _He_ let it in!"

"Harry, he was there all through dinner on Halloween. He wouldn't have time to let it in."

She looked sadly at her friend, who was growing more enraged as the conversation went on. Maybe he was too stubborn to see Snape's innocence. Maybe she was too stubborn to see his guilt.

"Harry, wasn't he one of the teachers that found you, Ron and Hermione with the troll?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Then he didn't stick around with Fluffy, did he? He came back down to join the other teachers."

"Only because Fluffy bit him."

She sighed, there was no convincing him. _Well, he doubts Snape, but would he doubt Dumbledore?_

"Harry, do you think it's easy to lie to Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry looked confused at the change of subject, "It's probably impossible."

"Then you think Snape could fool Dumbledore?"

"He's certainly slimy enough to lie to him."

Vitani huffed, "_Maybe_, but I would think Dumbledore would be distrustful of slimy guys."

Harry was quiet for a long time, staring back over the lake again. After a few minutes of contemplation he sighed.

"I guess you're right, Snape wouldn't be able to lie to Dumbledore. But why does that matter, if he keeps his tracks hidden, he doesn't need to lie to him."

"If Snape really wasn't sent to check on the third floor corridor, don't you think Dumbledore would question his whereabouts that night?"

Harry grimaced in defeat, "Fine, I can't prove he's trying to get the stone."

"But you still think he is."

"Yes. He still did curse my broom after all; I don't trust him."

"A personal vendetta against you does not necessarily mean he is trying to steal the stone. And I don't think he did that either."

"You just think he's a saint, don't you?"

"I think he's a highly disgruntled man who takes his anger out on who he dislikes. That doesn't make him a thief," she paused for a moment, "Harry, why don't you go to Dumbledore and tell him about your theories, and about last night. He may not believe you but he'll still listen. He might be able to resolve any worries you have."

He stiffened infinitesimally, "No, I've done enough poking around and look what I've got for it, a hundred fifty points lost and the school's hatred. I don't have any proof, there's no point, Dumbledore will believe Snape more than he will me, and it's not a secret I hate him."

"Being cautious and aware will not get you in trouble, if you're wrong Dumbledore will tell you-"

"No, I've done enough, I won't get any more points lost for accusing a teacher," he stood up quickly from his spot, turning away, "I just can't, Tani."

"I understand." _What a cruel thing it is, this crushing system of points and peer pressure._

He left her there for the castle, joining the crowd piling in for lunch.

Vitani sighed.

* * *

Vitani held her head in her hands, contemplating the rather irksome exam week that had just passed. All the teachers had given them piles upon piles of revision work, telling them to expect the hardest topics and the longest essays, all within an hour's time. Either they were lying or the ministry had decided to change the tests. With the new anti-cheating quills they were given, Vitani opened her tests to reveal simple short answer and paragraph questions, twenty-five in total. She was done and had checked them over thrice and still had fifteen minutes to go, so she spent the rest of the time with her head down, trying not to drool on her exam as she drifted in and out of sleep.

They also had practical exams in the afternoon after the written exam. Professor Flitwick asked them to make a pineapple tap dance on his desk, McGonagall told them to turn a mouse into a pretty snuffbox, Snape had them concoct a Forgetfulness potion from memory and Sprout set them to harvesting some Roogaberries from a rather finicky Roogabury bush. Despite her pineapple river dancing rather than tap dancing, and the plant giving her a small scratch on her finger (which she hid from Sprout, much to Hermione's chagrin), she felt she did very well. In fact, it could have been much worse. She had completely forgotten how to make a 'textbook' Forgetfulness potion and so had made one in an entirely different process, pocketing a vial of it. Still, she saw Snape scrawl a 100 as he passed by (also to Hermione's chagrin).

She spent the last day of exams with Daphne after an hour of writing a copious amount of male cow manure for her History exam. Today she was attempting to explain about television, films and animation. Despite the fact that the Wizarding world had moving photographs in their books and newspapers, Daphne could not comprehend how muggles had learned to string several of these moving photos in an ordered fashion with added audio. She also could not understand how muggles could take simple drawings and make them move with electricity. Vitani, using a pad of Post-it® and a quill, had drawn her the iconic bouncing ball on each post, flipping them to show it bouncing up and down. Animators and other artists, she told Daphne, did the same thing she did with the Post-its, except the drawings were much more complex and the movements faster and seamless. She still didn't get it. Vitani sighed, (she'd been doing it too much lately), and thought that she'd have to somehow get Daphne in front of a TV at some point. If she could understand television, she would be able to understand video games, computers, and other devices Vitani had also attempted to explain to her. Heck, the girl couldn't even comprehend electricity despite the raging lightning storm they'd had not three nights ago!

She sat outside with her for most of the afternoon, trying in vain to explain to Daphne, all the while thinking that Linus or Emmelia might better be able to explain such technologies to her so Vitani would not have such a headache. The sky darkened overhead so they walked together back toward the castle for dinner and down the dungeon steps to the common room, Daphne still firing question after question as they sat on the rather stiff sofa. Finally reaching her breaking point, Vitani declared herself deader than Death himself and proceeded to collapse on her bed without changing. She held cat-Akane over her head lest Daphne have any lingering inquiries.

Vitani awoke sometime around eleven at night to the gentle snores of the girls around her. She had gone to bed too early and now would probably be up all night. She got up, stretched, and carried the still sleeping cat with her to the common room, depositing herself on the sofa. The room was devoid of life, everyone too weary from exams to stay awake. She stared into the glowing embers of the dying fire, dragging her fingers through Akane's fur that lie on her stomach, wishing for sleep.

The grey ash obscured the fleeting red light of the dying embers, and she thought of her discussion with Harry about the stone. The stone was much like these embers: small, red, yet promising so much and just as fleeting. How many had dreamed of having the stone, only to give up as quickly as the embers cooled?

Yet now she had the materials to make quite a few philosopher stones. What would she do with them, let alone one? She didn't need to transmute metals to gold, nor the elixir of life. There must be other uses for it. She could always make the gold and donate it to charity. She remembered that Linus had needed gold for an electronics project he was working on. Maybe the stone could be used to make other medicines beside the elixir. It could probably help her greatly in potions, though she would never use it publicly. Unlike Nicholas Flamel, she would never share that she had the stone to the general public. It was a wonder how the man was still alive; even the elixir could not save him from assassins attempting to steal the stone.

The warm glow was beginning to lull her back to unconsciousness and her eyes fluttered closed. For a few moments she was able to enjoy the quiet crackle of the kindle and Akane's soft purrs. And then her being was filled with a deathlike chill.

It was like she had fallen into an ice bath. Akane, also feeling the intense sensation, dug her claws into Vitani's stomach and yowled loudly in pain. Vitani bolted upright and looked wildly around, thinking it might be a trick by Pansy or even Draco, but instead her eyes settled on the large ghost floating above her.

"Baron!" she whispered harshly and Akane hissed at the offending specter.

"My apologies, but I believed it to be the quickest way to wake you," he said simply.

"Do you enjoy my pain, Baron? Does it entertain you that much?" she seethed, remembering her last conversation with the ghost.

"Not particularly," he deadpanned, his dark eyes hallow, "but your reactions are quite intriguing." It only made her scowl more.

"What is it you want; unlike you, I can actually participate in the enjoyable activity called 'sleeping'," she cared not if she offended the apparition still floating above her. His expression changed infinitesimally and for once since she arrived at Hogwarts he actually had a look of haughtiness about him.

"Oh, it's nothing too important."

She had been right, he _did_ enjoy her pain and torment.

"Then leave!" she hissed.

"I see," he said, conceit slipping oh so slightly into his voice, "I suppose you don't care what your little friends are saying about Professor Snape."

She raised a single, tired eyebrow.

"It seems they can't hold their tongues, even in his presence, going on and on about the stone you coveted so dearly a few months back-"

She did not _covet_ the stone, covet was way too strong a word for her desires while adventuring within the third floor corridor. Hadn't the mirror proved that when, instead of seeing the stone, she saw herself making it? More importantly, she thought she could simply take the stone before someone else in the school could, like a race. Of course, considering she had only garnered the materials and not the physical stone, she supposed she had lost that race.

"-that they think Professor Snape wishes to steal as well, completely ignoring his dutiful service to the school-"

_He must be talking about Harry, Hermione and Ron, _she thought. _Well to bad Barry, this is old news. And why is he talking so much anyway. You can barely get the guy to say two words at the table._

"-and expect to catch him red-handed when they go into the corridor-"

"What?!" she gasped, startled, "What do you mean 'go into the corridor'."

"They intend to follow the nonexistent Professor down into the dark bowels of the school so as to stop him from reaching the stone. Those Gryffindors just want to pin any crime they can on Professor Snape-"

"Why didn't you tell me this first?!" she hissed. She bolted to her feet, regretting the swift action as it caused her head to pop into the ghost's ethereal body. Akane immediately jumped onto her shoulder as she made her way to the stonewall entrance of the common room. The moment she stepped through Akane transformed into Vitani's favored black cloak and she began her journey to the dungeon steps. She had nearly made it there, until she felt a well-manicured hand grab at her wrist.

She spun around only to be confronted by a rather malicious smile plastered on Pansy's face. Vitani gave her the most vicious glare she could in her weariness and panic, and as such, Pansy wasn't very intimidated.

"I've got you now, DeVera," she sneered, looking utterly pleased with herself, "I've got you and Potter and Granger and Weasley. I heard everything the Bloody Baron said, and now you're all going to be expelled!" she laughed wickedly.

Pansy was making way to much racket; they were only a few corner turns away from Snape's office, and if he heard them…

She ripped her wrist from the girl's grasp and backed away slowly, trying to think of a way to get rid of Pansy. There was no way to simply knock her out without anyone knowing another person was involved, whether she used a spell or simply hit her in the neck. And when she came to, there was nothing stopping Pansy from spilling everything she had heard to the teachers. There wasn't anything Vitani could do.

She took another step back, her robes brushing against the stone corridor and she heard the faintest clinking of glass. And then her path became clear.

_Yes, that'll work._

She took one final step back, effectively cornering herself as Pansy stalked her, looking utterly ridiculous in her attempt to look menacing. Vitani silently slid her hand into her pocket, grasping the forgotten vial, easing the cork out slowly.

"I'm going to enjoy this greatly, DeVera, watching you as your life is ruined, as your friends turn on you, as you leave on the train never to return!" she cackled in crescendo, "And you'll never be Snape's favorite ever again!"

_So in the end, that's the crux of the matter. _

Pansy opened her gaping maw to shriek in bodacious laughter. Vitani lunged at her throat, her nails digging into Pansy's collar and forced the vial down her gullet. Pansy grasped at the hand on her collar, sputtering and coughing on the potion. Vitani let her go and Pansy dropped to the floor, holding her throat. In Pansy's moment of weakness, Vitani turned away from her to whisper to Akane.

"Go back to the dorm and pretend to be me. I'll be alright on my own."

Her cloak fell from her shoulders, turning into a cat as it landed, and bounded away toward the common room. Vitani looked down toward the fallen girl who was no longer coughing, but sitting there in a daze, looking around herself, puzzled. She could simply leave her here now, Pansy having forgotten the past twenty minutes. Before she could simply dart away to the dungeon steps, she heard the scuffle of rushing feet back down the corridor. Vitani reached down and pulled Pansy's nightgown over her face, blocking Vitani from her view and causing the girl even more confusion. _Then_ she simply darted away under the dungeon steps to hide.

Snape dashed down the hall in his green sleepwear, coming to a stop in front of Pansy, who seemed to have forgotten how to right herself. Rather than pulling the cloth from her face, she had managed to tangle herself even more.

Snape pulled the nightgown from her face, "What are you doing out in the middle of the night Miss Parkinson?" he asked, disgruntled.

She peered up at him with glassy eyes, "I don't know, sir."

Snape clenched his teeth, "You don't _know._" He snatched her arm and pulled her quickly to her feet, further disorienting her, "You know _well_ why you are out of your dorm! Trying to getting who-knows-who in trouble, just as you have time and time before!" he dragged her away, still muttering insults and accusations down the hall.

Vitani let out a quiet sigh of relief and began to silently climb the stairs up to the Entrance Hall. Without her cloak she needed to be extra careful not to alert any other wanderers or teachers. She needn't however; her way was unexpectedly clear. She had lost too much time dealing with Pansy; she just had to hope that Harry, Ron and Hermione were all still in Gryffindor Tower. Obvious to her, but not to them, Snape was incredibly far away from the stone, currently punishing a wayward Pansy.

Up several flights, down several corridors, turning to and fro away from any painting's gaze she made her way, panicking as she passed a clock that read midnight. Finally she whispered, "Pig Snout," to a sleeping Fat Lady, who startled awake and swung back to let her through.

What she found was not the golden trio planning their descent down the third floor corridor. What she found was not the other Gryffindors hanging out in the excitement of the end of the year. What she found was not a startled House Elf tending to the fire or cleaning the room. What she found was Neville paralyzed, planted face first into the lush red carpet of the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

**Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun! Ok, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that there are only going to be 1 or 2 more chapters. The good news is I have two bonus chapters that I will post along with the final chapter. The first one is my take on the Philosopher's Stone. The second is about House Elves. I hope you look forward to it. Thank you and Review!**


	23. The Big Guns

**I messed up last chapter. I said it would be Slytherins 8****th**** year winning, but it's actually the 7****th****. Sorry! Also, the location of the Headmaster's office is never set in one floor, so… you know, have a bit of leeway. Enjoy and Review.**

* * *

Vitani rushed over to Neville and rolled him over to see his face. He was completely stiff, his arms and legs rigid at his sides, his jaw clenched. Only his eyes were moving as he stared at her in horror. She took her wand from her pocket and pointed it at Neville.

"Finite!"

Immediately his whole body slackened and he became something of a blob on the red carpet. He stretched where he lay, rolling his tense joints and muscles. Suddenly, he sat up ramrod straight, and Vitani wondered if the curse had not worn off. He grasped her shoulders, utter panic in his eyes.

"Vitani!"

"Yes Neville, I'm right here," she said calmly, relieved he was, in fact, cured.

"Vitani, they've- they've gone, we're doomed, we're all doomed. Gryffindor's completely lost," he said miserably.

"Who's gone?" she said, already knowing the answer.

"Harry and Ron and Hermione!" he gasped, "Oh Vitani, I tried to stop them, I tried to stand up to them just like Ron told me too, and now they'll lose us so many points when they're caught again."

"I think that's the least of your problems," she said, thoughts miles away.

Why did Harry decide tonight was the night? He had been stubbornly insistent that Snape was set on stealing the stone, when minutes before she had seen that proven false. What had made him go down, what had alerted Harry that Snape had succeeded in identifying all the traps set before the seekers of the stone? From what she had gathered, Harry believed Snape to be missing one last piece, the ability to subdue Fluffy. Had he heard someone tell him otherwise? Whatever the reasons, Harry believed someone, Snape or not, had trekked down the third floor corridor. Who else was suspicious enough in character and form to steal the stone?

A lead weight dropped in Vitani stomach. She had the sickening feeling she knew _exactly_ who would be just the right culprit.

"Neville," she hushed as he continued to groan about the trio, "come with me."

She pulled him to his feet and out the portrait hole before he could argue. He tried to stutter out a response as she dragged him down the fifth and fourth staircases. She shushed him repeatedly when he mumbled "trouble" and "points" and "McGonagall's scary face." They made it to the third floor and began to approach the forbidden corridor when Neville gave a desperate squeak and attempted to yank his arm from her grasp. Vitani opened the door quickly to reveal a slumbering hellhound. On the floor she could see a tiny harp and a small wooden flute.

She shut the door as soon as Fluffy began to growl and proceeded to drag Neville with her down the next flight of stairs. Two separate instruments, two separate groups descending into the trap-laden corridor. Harry had been right about the stone being stolen tonight, but by whom? She and Neville continued down until they were on the second floor and she turned to head toward the DADA office.

_Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong._

The door to the DADA office was ajar. Vitani slowly entered the vacant, cluttered room while Neville leaned against the doorway, exhausted from the excessive exercise. Books were stacked haphazardly against the walls, books about curses, creatures and every other gruesome nightmare one could think of. A slender mirror she recognized from her father's office as a Foe Glass stood propped near the back wall. Papers were scattered on the desk and the floor. In a cage next to the mirror was the apathetic iguana she'd met the first DADA lesson. Another door at the side of the room stood ajar; leading to the teacher's private quarters. It was empty as well.

Neville shook with fright, "We shouldn't be in here!"

"Give me a minute," she muttered back. It looked like someone had been in a rush to leave, but that didn't prove anything. She leaned over the desk to look closely at the papers when her foot kicked something underneath. She crouched on the ground and peered into the narrow gap between the bottom of the desk and the floor. Her hand would not be able to fit in the space.

"Neville, give me a hand here."

He looked at her as though she had two heads.

"Neville, I'm not asking you to commit murder! Just help me lift the desk."

Neville knelt beside her and reluctantly lifted the desk. He only got it an inch or so off the ground and his face had turned a rather intriguing shade of blue as Vitani snatched the book from its hiding place. Neville let the desk drop unceremoniously to the floor, scattering more papers.

Vitani turned the book in her hands. Many of the pages had been dog-eared and torn from over use. The leather was a horrid shade of booger yellow, and bold red font topped the cover over a picture of a large, clubbed beast.

_ONE HUNDREAD AND ONE WAYS TO TRICK, TRAIN AND TRAMPLE TROLLS!_

"Well_ shit._"

Neville started at Vitani's vulgar language. Vitani strode toward the door, throwing the book down in her wake. Neville followed behind. She stood outside the doorway, not caring if anyone saw her anymore. There were things more concerning at the moment.

"We need to get to Dumbledore," she said to herself.

"The Headmaster is currently out to London, dear Vitani."

This time she was prepared to see the large pearly apparition floating above her. "Then we need a fireplace, if you're willing to be helpful this time."

"That, I can provide."

He began gliding towards the stairs descending toward the first floor. She started to follow, but Neville grabbed her wrist to stop her. He looked like a lost puppy; tired, confused and frustrated with the current situation. Surely this was not the night he expected to have; he seemed on the verge of breaking down.

"Could you _please _tell me what's going on?" he pleaded, stress level at critical mass.

She pulled him with her after the Baron; "There's something bigger than us, the houses, or the points going on in this school. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I found out what that hellhound is guarding, and the other three reckon its being stolen tonight. They think Snape's trying to steal it, but I have other suspicions," she grimaced.

Neville's eyes grew to saucers, "You think Professor-"

"I don't think, I know. That book pretty much proves it."

"But he's the DADA teacher, it's expected he has a book on trolls for his class. He just can't, he's too… too-"

"Weak? Pathetic? Idiotic? Feeble?" she muttered.

"I was thinking timid," he mumbled.

"Looks can be deceiving," she glanced around her surroundings, "Baron, you're not leading us back to the common room, are you?"

"No. Professor Snape is still busy with Miss Parkinson, making the fireplace in the common room inaccessible. Even if he was not present, there is no guarantee you will not be over heard again, and I doubt you have any more Forgetfulness potion hidden in your pocket."

She was going to ignore that last part, "Then where are you leading us?"

"Here," he said, stopping in front of a towering gargoyle set into the wall. "This is the entrance to Headmaster Dumbledore's office, sure to be vacant for the use of any secret Floo travelers."

"Alright," she and Neville stared up at the imposing statue, "so what's the password?"

"Some sort of muggle confection, I believe."

"So you don't _know_," she glared at the apparition. He shrugged his shoulders. "Do you ever think your plans through, or do you just expect everyone to go along and fix your half-assed concoctions!" she seethed.

"Quite a temper we have," he said knowingly.

"I didn't have a great dinner," she muttered and turned toward the gargoyle, "So it's just some kind of muggle candy…" She tried to remember the months back when she'd first visited Dumbledore's office, yet the only thing that came to mind in her tired brain was 'lemons'.

"Lemons, what the hell kind of password starts with lemons? Lemon cake, lemon Jell-O, lemon bar…"

"Lemon drop?" said Neville quizzically.

_Right, lemon drop._

The gargoyle slid back into the wall and then aside, revealing a tall spiral staircase moving smoothly upward. Vitani turned to Neville in mild shock, her eyebrows raised, and he looked down at his hands sheepishly.

"I found the candy wrapper near the foot of the gargoyle," handing her the tiny yellow wrapper with green script font.

"Hmm," she said, shoving the wrapper in her pocket while simultaneously dragging Neville toward the stairs, muttering, "When this is over, I'm hibernating for the rest of the school year."

They stepped toward the spiraling stairs and ascended up toward Dumbledore's office. The large circular room was just as she remembered it. Still covered in portraits, still piled with books, still laden with small smoking instruments, still housing a bird. However, the bird was not as colorful as she remembered it. It's once scarlet plumage was now ashen and dulled, it's stature hunched with age. It was an ominous sign.

Neville and Vitani both stepped into Dumbledore's fireplace, easily large enough to fit quite a few more people.

"Well, I leave you here, I suppose," said the Baron, slightly remorseful.

Vitani sucked in a slow breath and regretted it deeply when she inhaled a mouthful of ash. "Thank you Baron," she coughed grudgingly, "you were a real help."

"So long," he said as Vitani and Neville called out, "The Ministry of Magic!"

The children vanished in a swirl of ash, and the Baron gave a rather large sigh and turned to drift through the headmaster's office walls, wishing for some form of entertainment. Hundreds of miles away, the same children reappeared in a similarly large fireplace, dusting off their sooty robes. While Neville continued to rid his person of ash, Vitani carefully snuck from the Floo corridor to the main lobby of the atrium and peeked around the corner. She pulled her head quickly back and silently cursed to herself.

"Damn."

"What's wrong?" Neville whispered.

"I thought maybe Jim would be the watch-wizard on duty, but luck does not seem to be on our side tonight. If it were him, he would probably listen to us."

"You know the guards at the Ministry?"

"I had to come here quite often when I was young," her eyes narrowed to slits. "The best part of the visit was leaving… and seeing Jim. He'd always smile, pat my head and tweak my nose."

"It sounds like you've had some rough times here."

"That's the understatement of the year," she grimaced further, "What's worse, rather than Jim, it's that idiot Eric Munch. His job isn't very exciting, and when he wasn't jabbing people with the Probity Probe, he was yelling at me. Probably gave him something to do."

They both peeked around the corner, to see his pudgy face being held up by his hand. His peacock-blue clad shoulders moved slowly up and down as he hunched over his desk. The rest of the atrium was empty. They slowly slipped around the corner, waiting for Munch to turn and catch them, but he just sat there silently in the corner.

"Oh my Gandalf, he's asleep!" she whispered excitedly. "If we weren't on a mission right now I'd so draw all over his face!"

"We're on a mission?" Neville whispered back as they silently stepped from the slumbering watch-wizard.

"Of course we are Neville! We're here to get Dumbledore!"

"But why couldn't we have gotten another teacher?"

She thought for a moment, so as to explain her fears in the most comprehensible way. "I don't know exactly what Quirrell plans to do," it was a relief to say the name, "all I know is that there are loads of traps down in the third floor corridor, and we might as well get the big guns to deal with the situation. I don't believe in saving the best for last."

"The 'big guns'?" asked Neville, puzzled.

"Dumbledore. He probably knows the traps best, and if Quirrell tries anything dirty with Harry, Ron and Hermione…"

"Oh…"

A chilling silence fell on them as they approached the lifts. Instead of opening for them, the gates stood still. Unlike the elevators in muggle buildings, there wasn't any button for Vitani to push to call the lift, nor could she simply find the breaker room to activate the lifts, as they didn't run on electricity.

"Oh, come on!" she whispered, rattling the gates of the lift. The creaking of metal echoed around the atrium and she and Neville flinched when they heard Munch snort in his sleep. The moment passed and Munch returned to his quiet slumber. Vitani sighed in relief and Neville wiped the sweat from his head. She nodded to him to check the other lifts; Vitani went left, Neville right, slightly pushing on each of the gates of the lifts. With each lift they passed, Vitani's panic escalated. She reached the last gate on her side and struck out, the gates failing to open. Neville, however, had struck gold.

"This one works over here!" he said and Vitani raced over. They marveled at the shimmering golden gates, a serene woman's voice beckoning them into the lift, ascending and guiding them to their destination.

"Err, I'm not exactly sure where we're going, actually…" Vitani gave a shaky laugh and scratched the back of her head. Neville on the other hand, looked much more somber and focused. His brows scrunched together in thought, his lips pouted.

"He's at a meeting right?"

"I- think- so…" she said, unsure.

"And he's Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, right?" his brows furrowed further.

"Is he now?" she asked back.

"That's what Gran told me," he said, looking away.

The cool woman voice announced they had passed the seventh level, opening and closing on an empty corridor, filled only with Quidditch posters and random broomsticks.

"Then I guess we're going to level two, where the Wizengamot Administration is," she suddenly pulled Neville to her side in an one armed hug. "You've been my good luck charm tonight. The castle was deserted, you figured out Dumbledore's password, you found the working lift and now you know where Dumbledore is," she pulled him in tighter, "you've been very brave tonight."

He face turned into a lovely shade of scarlet, "Th-th-thanks."

"You know, your face matches the Gryffindor emblem," she smirked.

The gates opened to level six: Department of Magical Transportation.

* * *

Oswald Robin was a rather stout wizard with a rather prominent handlebar mustache that he was very fond of. He was currently twirling the right side of his blonde mustache between his thick fingers, staring at his partner leaning on a random employee's desk. Henry Williams was a rather slim wizard with a rather inconspicuous pencil mustache, sitting on said desk, absentmindedly stroking the corner of his maroon mustache, staring back at Oswald, who was perched on his own desk. Their job tonight was a simple task, a task which they did every night, with little excitement, but which they did with vigilance nonetheless. Thanks to them, no being had ever successfully snuck into the Department of Magical Transport in the thirty-five years they'd been on the job. Then again, no being had ever snuck into the Department of Magical Transport at all.

They sat on their perches, preening away at their immaculate facial hair, when they heard the faint sound of a lift moving upward. They looked at each other quizzically, still petting their upper lips. The only people they knew to be in the Ministry at the moment were the twelve Hogwarts school governors and some members of the Wizengamot. No doubt it was some late fellow entering the meeting now, or a fretful worker come to retrieve a forgotten item. Still, they stared at the gate of the lift, waiting. Just as the lift stopped on their floor, they heard the most curious voice seemingly belonging to a small girl.

"You know, your face matches the Gryffindor emblem."

The gates opened to reveal said small girl, whose face went from a pleasant expression to a most unpleasant one. The boy beside her, who was twice as wide and only slightly taller than the girl, broke into a rather heavy sweat. There was a moment's pause and then the gate closed and the lift continued upward.

Oswald and Henry looked back towards each other, perched on their desks, still grooming their whiskers.

"What a curious boy and girl they were."

"Curious…"

They scrambled off to their superiors.

* * *

"Vitani, what do we do now, they know we're here!" Neville asked in horror.

"We have to keep going, we've gotten this far, we just need to get to Dumbledore," her brave words were marred by her rather pale green face.

"You know, your face matches the Slytherin emblem," Neville laughed feebly.

"Oh shut up."

The lift rose to level five: Department of International Magical Cooperation. The corridor was deserted.

"Come on, we're getting out now," she said.

They rushed from the lift and the gates closed, the lift ascending.

"It seems every other floor in guarded. Now they'll just find an empty lift on the next level."

"But won't they know we got off here?"

"Not if we find a staircase," she said, dashing toward the very back of the corridor. They passed by several maps of foreign countries, pictures of foreign diplomats and long list of doctrines with hundreds of signatures. Vitani wound her was through the narrow side halls on the level for several minutes.

"Vitani, I'm not sure there are any staircases in the Ministry."

"I told you before, Neville, I've been here much too often not to remember an escape route."

"Escape route?" he mumbled, but Vitani finally stopped in front of a small door in the most darken corner on the floor. On the door was a small plaque lettered with small font: EMERGENCY STAIRCASE.

"This is kind of hidden away, isn't it?" asked Neville.

"And now you know just a little bit more why I despise the Ministry so much."

They entered the narrow metal stairwell and continued upward.

* * *

Flint Westwood sat in a small office off the Auror Main Headquarters. He was utterly bored, signing useless paperwork that would just be circulated back to him in a few days. He, who once faced head on with Death Eaters and achieved many feats in the Auror Office, was now a simple Watch-Wizard due to a series of accidents on more recent missions. At least he was the head, but still, to be so cold heartedly demoted in front of the entire staff. The bastards just wanted to make an example at of him. Westwood sat twiddling with the quill, thinking of ways to be bumped back up to Auror ranks, when two distinct cracks sounded outside his office. The door opened quickly, revealing a pair of men, one stout and one slim.

"Robin! Williams! What in Merlin's name are you doing away from your posts, apparating right near an important meeting of the school governors?" Maybe if they knew how stern he was with his subordinates, they would give him another chance?

"Sir, we've just seen two children riding the lifts up past our floor," said Oswald.

"They're very curious children, sir," said Henry.

"I don't care if they were curious children! Stay at your post and use the damn two-way mirrors you were given to alert me!"

"Yes sir!" they saluted, and then stood there.

"What did I just SAY? GET BACK TO YOUR POSTS!" and they scurried from the office.

Westwood pulled his own mirror from his pocket as well as his wand and spoke into the glass.

"Attention Watch-Wizards!"

An eye of each wizard on duty appeared in the mirror.

"There are intruders inside the Ministry, two children, seen using the lifts. They are past the sixth level and their destination is unknown. Find them!"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

"Vitani?" whispered Neville as they crept past the fourth level door on the stairwell.

"Yes Neville?" she whispered back.

"Won't they check the stairs when they can't find us in the lifts?"

"They'll probably search all the floors above level six before they even consider the stairwell. Since they have guards on every other floor, it'll take twice the time. It took them hours to find me when I was younger."

* * *

"Have you found them yet?" Westwood barked into the mirror.

"Sir, we're checking all the floors, but it'll take some time. We don't have enough men to search them all simultaneously, it's taking twice the time," replied a random guard.

"Damnit!" he said, slamming the mirror on his desk. It's not like children could have disapparated out of the Ministry, unless someone else was with them.

"Have you tried _Homenum Revelio_?"

"Sir?"

"_Homenum Revelio!_" he barked, "the human presence revealing charm! You can't seriously be a Watch-Wizard and not know-oh Merlin-you can't expect idiots to do a man's job!" he scoffed, rising from his chair and walking from the office. Just as he was about to disapparate to the third floor, a thought came to him.

_Why would children come to the Ministry, what's here? The only people here are the school governors and a few Wizengamot members. Are they trying to get to the second floor?_ A gleeful smile crept onto his face. _I'll catch them for sure._

"Attention Watch-Wizards!" he called into the mirror, "Thomson, Hanks, Robin! Guard the lift on the third floor. Williams, Johns, Cleese! Block the stairwell from the third floor."

"Yes sir!"

_I'm going to get you, punks!_

* * *

"Alright, this is it," whispered Vitani, slowly turning the knob on the second level door. They crept quietly from the stairwell, looking for the Wizengamot offices. "This is an even numbered floor, so someone should be guarding it."

"You think?"

Vitani and Neville whipped around and Vitani went cross-eyed as she stared at the wand pointed at her nose.

"You punks thought you'd get lucky, eh, getting through the Ministry without getting caught?" Westwood smirked, but slowly his expression darkened to one of grudging awareness. "You're the little girl that gave the Ministry such a headache years ago. You're Mordecai's brat!" Catching a high-ranking Auror's kid sneaking into the Ministry would get him promoted for sure.

Vitani looked away from the wand and toward the office doors that were only a few feet away. Neville took a step back toward the stairwell. Westwood turned his eyes on him.

"Go ahead and try it, make my day. The better the chase, the more credit they'll give me. Just come quietly."

While he was looking at Neville, Vitani knocked his hand back and Westwood's wand flew from his hand. Neville and Vitani ran back toward the stairwell. Just as they turned to take the first step, a red jet of light crashed into the rail in front of them, leaving a black scorch mark. They ran full tilt downward.

"I tried being reasonable!" he yelled as he shot stunning spells at them through the gaps in the metal steps, "I didn't really like it, it wasn't thrilling enough!" he cackled. He took out his mirror and said, "Williams, they're headed your way!"

Neville was nearly down to the third level door, but Vitani grabbed the neck of his robes to stop him.

"What! What!"

"He stopped shooting at us." _Damnit, and we were so close too._

"We can't go back up!" he said desperately to her.

"I don't think we can go back down either," she said, eyes widening.

Neville turned back down the stairs, only to see three bulky wizards rushing up at them.

"ARRGH!" Neville yelled as one of the wizards tackled him to the ground. Vitani tried to side step the next wizard, but instead he grabbed her ankle and pulled her down. The three wizards surrounded them, the first two holding their wrists to their backs, marching them back up the stairs, the third following behind. Soon they were back on the second floor, Westwood smirking at them evilly.

"What a disappointment you are, little DeVera. What a disgrace, having an Auror's daughter breaking Wizarding law. What will your father think, or better yet, the Minister?" he cackled.

Vitani spit in his face.

"ACK!" he yelled, wiping the spit on his robes, "you are going to pay for that, you little punk."

"What is all the ruckus about," came a cold voice from behind. Westwood turned from Vitani to a tall, pale man with long blonde hair. He was carrying a black walking stick and was wiping his hands on a small black handkerchief.

"Mr. Malfoy, my apologies, I was unaware the meeting had been settled," said Westwood.

"I was taking care of other business," he said, tucking the handkerchief into a pocket. He tilted his head to look around Westwood, "Hogwarts students?" he smiled wickedly. He strutted toward them and stared down at the two children, "How fascinating, and we were just discussing rampant students in the meeting, especially some prominent red headed ones." He stuck out his pale hand and pulled on Neville's tie, "I think you belong in the same house," he sneered. "I was just telling the other governors how Dumbledore can't keep track of his students, and here are two perfect examples." He turned toward Vitani, but frowned when he noticed her green and silver tie and her apparent glare.

"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin," he mumbled.

"Yeah, don't get too many of those pairings, eh?" said one of the Watch-Wizards. Lucius Malfoy gave him a glare, and he stopped talking.

"It matters not," he turned away from them, "they will be detained for now and be dealt with later. No doubt this will give my argument against Dumbledore's policies some support. Just hold them in some room until the meeting ends."

The wizards barely began marching them down the corridor when Neville, out of complete desperation, began to yell at the Wizengamot meeting room door. The door remained firmly shut.

"Haha! Idiot boy! That room has a silencing charm on it. You can't hear them, and they can't hear you!" sneered Malfoy. He threw his head back to laugh again, when a black shoe whizzed past his head and struck the door, hard. He turned back to the children and eyed Vitani's shoeless right foot. "You have terrible aim little girl, it didn't even come close to my head."

"Wasn't aiming for your head," she sneered back, as the door opened a few inches. A ruddy face appeared in the crack.

"Who dares to bang on the door of the Wizengamot at such an untimely hour-"

"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!" Vitani bellowed with all her might, "PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE, THERE'S TROUBLE AT THE CASTLE!"

Immediately the door swung open and there stood Dumbledore, impressive and gauntly in the dim light of the corridor. He strode toward them, towering over Lucius Malfoy, Westwood and the other wizards. For the third time this year, Dumbledore's face conveyed all the grim power and intensity he constantly kept behind his jolly demeanor. Behind him, looking rather meek in comparison stood the twelve governors.

"Miss DeVera, Mr. Longbottom, I see you two are out and about," he said calmly.

Malfoy whipped his head toward the governors, "See, see! This is the price we pay for letting Dumbledore discipline our children, two lose and hundreds of miles away from school, in the Ministry no less!"

"Calm yourself Lucius, there is no trouble on their part."

"No trouble?" began one of the older governors, "Lucius' concern seems to be genuine; your students have left the school and have broken into the Ministry, after hours to boot."

"But you must have heard Miss DeVera's rather loud announcement, Governor Pollock; she is simply doing her job of alerting me to any disruptions at the school."

Malfoy's face blotched in rage, "You mean to tell me you told your students come to fetch you for any inconvenience at the school, rather than a teacher?!"

"Certainly. Who better than to alert me to the secret on goings of the school unknown to the staff than the students themselves? Now if you'll excuse me, from her tone of voice, it seems there is a real emergency on my hands."

Dumbledore took the arms of Vitani and Neville away from the Watch-Wizards and disapparated on the spot.

One horrid twisting sensation later, the three appeared in Hogsmeade square. The silence between them was tense and deafening. Immediately Dumbledore began to pull them toward the rout iron gates of the school. They had to jog simply to keep up with his long strides. They neared the two winged boars that bordered the gate, and Dumbledore spoke.

"Much has gone on since I left for the Ministry. Mr. Malfoy didn't nearly get to speak as much as he wanted; I suppose the governors will just end up scheduling another meeting."

They walked up the front steps.

Vitani rushed out, "Professor, please, Quirrell's gone after the stone in the third floor corridor and Ron, Hermione and-"

But Dumbledore opened the castle doors with a loud creak, and there stood Ron, Hermione, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. At once the two students rushed forward, but before they could say a word, Dumbledore said, "Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?"

And he hurtled off to the third corridor.

* * *

**IMPORTANT! Before any of you say "But there weren't any guards in the ministry in the fifth book!" here's the thing. (I wish i could post a link to this person but FF won't let me) The reason there aren't any guards in the fifth book is because the death eaters took them all out so Harry and co. would have an easier time getting into the ministry. You know what, I'll post the link in my profile.**

**Clint Eastwood, please don't sue me.**

**Tom Hanks, Robin Williams and John Cleese, please don't sue me either.**


	24. That's Not Possible

**The final chapter… and then bonus chapters!**

* * *

The six stood as they stared after Dumbledore, who'd vanished up into the third floor corridor. There was a long moment of silence as everyone gathered his or her thoughts on the situation. Neville and Vitani were slowly coming down from their adrenaline high from the Ministry, she glanced at Neville to see that his nerves were finally shot and he sat down on the steps, leaning against the rail. She was rather exhausted herself and sat down next to him, lying back on the stairs.

McGonagall and Snape seemed to have gathered themselves as they turned to their students. McGonagall looked beside herself in rage.

"So," she began, ticking off her fingers, "There were three students who thought it would be prudent to travel down a highly dangerous _forbidden_ corridor with out any help to catch a _supposed_ thief, who also may be highly dangerous himself, two students who bypassed all the teachers authority and _left_ the school to _break into the_ _Ministry, _and yet another student who saw it fit for a nighttime _stroll_." Each finger she ticked off, her wrath grew, "Just what do you all think you were doing! Being brave and heroic? You all could have gotten yourselves killed or arrested!"

She went on and on, but in her energy-sapped mind McGonagall's voice sounded like a buzzing in Vitani's head. Neville leaned slightly away from the railing and spoke up, "Who was the sixth person?"

Before either teacher could answer Vitani muttered, "It was Pansy. She was trying to cause what is happening now. I thought we might avoid this rather irksome situation with the teachers if I got her to drink that Forgetfulness potion, but it seems that backfired." All her polite and respect filters on her speech had shut down for the night.

"You mean to tell me," now Snape was speaking, "that you drugged Miss Parkinson and left her there in the corridor for me to find, clumsy and confused and wrongfully punished?"

"Would you rather I'd knocked her out and left her unconscious? I found that rather counterproductive. No doubt it would cause a wide spread panic in the castle, resulting in the teachers searching for any culprit or intruder in the school who may have attacked Pansy, as well as the gathering of the students and the disappearance of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville…and myself," she added, thinking of warning Akane in the dormitory. It would be bad if Snape had already seen her. "You might have deduced that someone went down into the third floor corridor and would have attempted to pull Harry, Ron and Hermione out once they were found, allowing Quirrell more time to get to the stone." A rather disturbing thought came to her, but her garbled mind spat it out anyway, despite its incredulity, "And then he could give it to Voldemort."

Ron and Hermione flinched at the name, Neville nearly jumped in the air and both teachers looked rather startled. Before Snape could speak, she added, "I mean, he's such a weakling—err—timid person by nature, and who really is desperate enough to get a stone that grants life other than a dead person? Voldemort probably forced Quirrell to get it for him." The more she said, the more ridiculous it sounded and the more she wished her mouth would stop moving, but it didn't. "You know he let in the troll at Halloween? It's kind of stupid of you not to notice he let in the same creature he put down the corridor as a trap for intruders, but maybe you didn't know about the troll trap because it seems Quirrell didn't know about the other traps. It seems Dumbledore wanted to make sure that even the teachers couldn't get through, but it failed in the end. _I'm so very sorry_ I attempted to retrieve the one person who would listen to me unquestionably and not waste time in preventing Quirrell from getting the stone. As I recall, Dumbledore is the only one Voldemort feared, I'm pretty sure he can make Quirrell piss his pants…robes."

"Will you please stop saying the name," Ron and Neville both squeaked out.

"And how exactly did you know that there was a troll down in the corridor?" Snape muttered lowly.

"Dumbledore told us on the way back from the Ministry," she lied.

"Still, to accuse a teacher of such, there is no evidence that—" McGonagall began.

"Do you not believe me? Why don't you ask Snape what he thinks of Quirrell; he's been hounding the man all year. Quirrell's so pathetic and Snape's so vicious, to an outsider, it would look like Snape was the one forcing information from Quirrell about the stone. It's no wonder they accused you of trying to get the stone first," she gestured to Ron and Hermione. "Beside that, his office is vacant and he has a rather battered book about using trolls on his desk. Sure, he's the DADA teacher and he could be in the bathroom, but why chance it." _Damnit mouth; shut the hell up._

McGonagall and Snape looked at each other and a muted conversation started between them as they moved a little away from the students. Vitani rolled her head toward Hermione and Ron, "So you came out."

"Harry went to the last chamber," Hermione whispered, "I went back to rouse Ron and send an owl to Dumbledore, but it seems like you took care of that."

Vitani turned to Ron, only just noticing the large bump on his head, "What happened to you?"

"McGonagall's giant chess board nearly killed me! You wouldn't believe what's down there."

"Hn," she grunted, not wishing to think just how well she knew what was down there.

"Do—do you really think that Quirrell would give the stone to y-y-You-Know-Who?" mumbled Neville, and Hermione and Ron exchanged looks.

"It seems I'm not the only one to have that suspicion," she glanced at Ron and Hermione's sheepish faces, "but they would think that big bad Snape would be more fitting to work for Voldemort—"

"Stop saying the name!"

"—than little stuttering Quirrell. No, I don't really think he's working for Voldemort, but it certainly got their attention," she nodded toward the teacher's a little ways away, "I'll bet you anything that they know more than they're letting on. I wasn't lying when I said that Voldemort would love to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone."

"For the love of Merlin, would you please stop saying—"

But Ron never got to finish that sentence because in a matter of seconds two levitating stretchers and Dumbledore had appeared at the top of the staircase and were rushing down. When the stretchers were level with their eyes, they could see that one carried Harry, pale, sweaty and unconscious but still very much alive. The second carried none other than Quirrell, his turban removed, covering in what seemed to be third degree burns on his face and hands. Before anyone could move, Dumbledore began to issue orders.

"Minerva, take Harry and these four to the hospital wing and await further instruction. Severus, with me."

"Come on now, up, up," she beckoned the children to the left while Dumbledore and Snape went the other direction with Quirrell's body. They all rushed forward, Ron and Hermione calling out to Harry to wake him, but Vitani paused for a second and turned back to glance at Dumbledore and Snape's retreating forms. What she saw made her want to vomit.

At some point the jostling and gravity had pulled Quirrell's head to the side. The burns didn't reach this side of his skull, completely white and smooth like wax. Carved into the back of his skull was an inhuman face, flat and gaunt and snake like. The lips were all but gone, nothing to suggest he had a nose except for two slits for nostrils, and his narrowed eye sockets held blood red eyes with black slit pupils, the sclera black instead of white. It was a hallow image, the eyes dulled and empty.

Vitani was rooted to the stone under her feet, staring at the face as it disappeared through the castle doors. It wasn't until Neville's hand closed on her shoulder that she was able to look away from the doors.

"Vitani?" he said, concerned.

She turned away and began walking toward the hospital wing, Neville rushing along to kept up. They appeared just as Madam Pomfrey handed an ice pack to Ron. Harry was already settled in a bed with McGonagall and Hermione hovering over him.

"That will have to do for now Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter is in critical condition and I need to assess him."

"Of course," he said, standing from his seat on the other bed and watching with the others as Madam Pomfrey set to work.

Vitani glanced around the room and spotted a small bucket across the room. The moment she saw it her stomach lurched and she ran toward it, retching violently. It was a few minutes before she stopped and spat to get the disgusting taste from her mouth. Yet another hand appeared on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

She turned to see Snape standing over her; his face blank and his eyes pitch black. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and stood up, "I saw something unpleasant."

In the time she was dealing with her own sickness, Harry had been situated, Ron's bump had vanished and Hermione and Neville were being looked over. Madam Pomfrey looked away from them.

"They're pretty much unscathed," she nodded toward McGonagall, "and Mr. Potter will make a full recovery, but he needs a _lot_ of quiet and rest. He may be asleep for days." She started to walk toward Vitani and vanished the contents of the bucket. "You should take a rest as well, this night has certainly taken a toll on you."

"I'm fine."

"But I insist—"

"I'm _fine_," she gritted and made her way to the small bathroom off the main room. She rested her head on the cool porcelain of the basin, turning the faucet and washing her mouth and face with the cold water. Beyond the door she could here the faint murmurings of the teachers and the nurse discussing the students and the plans for tomorrow when the castle would wake to a teacher dead and a student seriously injured in the hospital wing. As she cleansed herself she noticed the silence outside and the faint steps of someone entering. She toweled her face and left to see Dumbledore surveying the damage.

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, if you'd please return your students and report back here…"

They immediately turned to leave, when Madam Pomfrey stepped forward.

"Calming Draught," she said, holding four glass vials out to the students, "for the shock."

The other three took theirs gratefully while she took hers grudgingly, pocketing the vial. They were lead out to the Entrance hall, the Gryffindors ascending the stairs and Vitani and Snape descending to the dungeons. They were silent the entire way down up until they reached the common room.

"Good night, Miss DeVera."

"Good night, professor."

She entered the common room alone and went straight toward the rest room, flushing the contents of the vial down the toilet and cleaning the two vials from her pocket in the sink. She left for the dorms then, opening to see four girls sound asleep and Akane as a fox, waiting for her. She quickly disrobed and curled up on the bed with Akane, holding the warm fur to her chest, trying to ignore the face she saw when she closed her eyes.

* * *

The next few days were filled with murmurs, mutters and chatters as the news of Harry and Quirrell's face off circled around the castle. Vitani wondered if Ron, Neville or Hermione had spilt the beans to anyone, but it turned out that Pansy was the one that started the ruckus. Snape had given her a Remembrance elixir the morning after, and immediately she began to gush out the trio's plan to go into the third floor corridor. This led to the capture of Hermione and Ron, who were practically forced by the student body to relive the entire tale up to the point where Harry had gone off alone into the last chamber.

Of course the school certainly wasn't satisfied with just the facts, so rumors began to spread. Quirrell summoning a troop of trolls to attack Harry while he laughed maniacally; Quirrell transforming into a dragon and burning Harry to a crisp; Quirrell as a vampire, sealing himself with the garlic turban on his head to make himself look human, going straight for Harry's jugular; Harry, just barely alive in the hospital wing, fighting the urge to join his parents in the afterlife; the rumors kept getting more ludicrous as the days wore on.

The teachers' responses to the battalion of questioners certainly didn't help. Told by Professor Dumbledore to keep quiet about the entire night, many of the teachers replied, "It's none of your business," or simply ignored the students who dared to ask them. This only confirmed the students' beliefs that something HUGE had happened down the third floor corridor. What was worse, Ron and Hermione's frantic journeys to the hospital wing made everyone suspect that Harry was living out his last moments. They had asked her at one point why she was not checking on him either, to which she replied, "Madam Pomfrey won't let you two in, why would she let me? He'll wake up when he wakes up."

But the worst to occur in the three days that Harry was asleep was the underlying terror that spread when Ron accidentally mentioned You-Know-Who being apart of the scheme to steal the stone. Soon owl upon owl was delivering parents' upset letters to Dumbledore, either panicked over You-Know-Who nearly returning to the realm of the living or angry with Dumbledore for allowing such rumors to spread.

The third day rolled along and Vitani chanced by the hospital wing to see if she could convince Ron and Hermione to calm down and stop badgering Madam Pomfrey, who more than likely saw them as a great disturbance to her patient's recovery. As it was, she found the two of them at the door whispering excitedly.

"He woke up," she said.

"Yes," beamed Hermione, "but Madam Pomfrey still won't let us in."

"Think we're going to act like gits and slow Harry's recovery," muttered Ron.

Just then Madam Pomfrey swung the door back and stared down at the three students with narrowed eyes.

"You get five minutes," she said, stepping aside. "Five minutes!" she barked when they rushed passed to Harry's bedside. He was propped up on many pillows and was wearing a pale blue hospital robe rather than his usual black. Pomfrey had probably switched them while he was asleep. Surrounding the bed were piles of sweets as tall as she was. Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the sight of his friends.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to— Dumbledore was so worried—"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

Compared to the rumors escalating outside the doors of the hospital wing, the true encounter was even more thrilling and wild. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud. Vitani swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as her suspicion was confirmed.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to die?"

_That doesn't make any sense. This is the Philosopher's Stone, the fifth element, the great amplifier, the red tincture; the thing should be nearly indestructible! _

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that— what was it? — 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.'"

"I always said he was off his rocker," smirked Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you three?" said Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "I brought Ron round— that took a while— and we sent an owl to contact Dumbledore when we got caught outside the owlery by McGonagall and Snape. They brought us down to the Entrance hall while we tried to explain ourselves, and then Dumbledore, Vitani and Neville burst into the entrance hall— Dumbledore already knew— he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"Why were you with Dumbledore?" Harry asked Vitani.

"She broke into the Ministry!" said Ron, "Just to get Dumbledore. Good thing too, with the way things turned out, Dumbledore might not have gotten here in time."

"I figured the teachers wouldn't listen to me. A little birdie told me you had tried that afternoon with McGonagall and it didn't turn out too well."

There was a moment of silence before Ron piped up again.

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" asked Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, getting back on subject, "if he did— I mean to say that's terrible— you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course— you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you— but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.

* * *

The next day was the end-of-term feast, and Vitani walked into the Great Hall with a crowd of other students looking up at the lavish green and silver banners hanging on every wall. This would be Slytherins seventh year winning the House Cup and the utter delight on the Slytherins faces revolted her. She sat next to Daphne who was also quite elated and beamed at her, "We won, we won, oh isn't this great Vitani?"

"Sure," she said, placating her.

"That means the seventh years will have won the cup every year they were here! It's so amazing."

"Mm hmm"

"Vitani, who are you looking for?"

Vitani had been glancing up and down the Gryffindor table the moment she sat down. "It seems Harry has yet to join us; Madam Pomfrey must be keeping him."

The moment she said it there was a hush among the student body and she turned toward the hall doors. There stood Harry, very much normal again, trying very much to ignore the stares he was getting. All the whispering began as he walked through and slipped between Ron and Hermione, his head down.

Fortunately, Dumbledore stepped up moments later and the babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore he beamed. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. All of them stood, waving little green flags and screaming at the top of their lungs. From across the table she could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. She stayed seated, rolling her eyes at them all. It made a few Ravenclaws nearby laugh.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

"First— to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

She turned to see Ron purple in the face; he looked like a radish with bad sunburn.

"... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

There was silence again.

"Second— to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; she had probably burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves— they were a hundred points up.

"Third— to Mr. Harry Potter..." said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points— exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup, it wasn't fair; for all the trio had faced that Dumbledore gave them one point less than they needed. Slytherin didn't need to win again.

Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. He had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. She smiled at him from across the hall and when he spotted her, he beamed back with tears in his eyes.

"Ahem, I have a few more points to give out…"

It took a moment for that sentence to sink into the minds of the Gryffindors. It confused Vitani as well. Who else could he award points to, no one else had done anything— no… no, _no, NO!_

"Lastly— to Miss Vitani DeVera…"

"DON'T YOU DARE, DUMBL—MMPH!," she had stood up but was pulled down roughly by Pansy and Malfoy, his hand covering her mouth, every Slytherins' faces aglow at the thought that they still had a chance. He couldn't do this; it was cruel to build up the Gryffindors' spirit only to squash it again.

"… for a cunning wit, sharp tongue and an unquestionable determination, I award Slytherin house—"

She bit Malfoy's hand and he yelled out in pain, but not as loudly as she shouted, "DUMBLEDORE!"

"—ten points."

Yet another silence fell over the Great Hall. Gryffindor had four hundred and eighty-two points. Slytherin had four hundred and eighty-two points.

"Which means, for the first time in Hogwarts history, we have a tie!" exclaimed Dumbledore.

"WHAT?!" screeched the entirety of the Slytherin table. They all looked even more heart broken and furious than when they thought they had been beaten outright. Most of the older students seemed like they wanted to murder someone, Pansy had burst into tears and Malfoy had thrown down his goblet on the floor. Share the glory with Gryffindor, Slytherin's long time rival, oh the humiliation.

An intense silence followed, the Slytherins simmering while the other tables stood in shock. Even the staff table was looking at Dumbledore like he had lost his mind. Suddenly Fred and George stood up, Neville on George's shoulder, running full tilt toward the Slytherin table. Fred scooped her up and placed her on his shoulders and the two twins ran up and down between the tables, shouting: "Gryfferin wins! Gryfferin wins!"

Vitani barked out a laugh and hugged Fred's head tightly, wiping tears from her eyes when she began to wheeze. She looked at Neville who seemed to be in the same state of laughing and wheezing fit. Then he said in a breathy voice, "I thought it was Slytherdor!"

"GRYFFERIN AND SLYTHERDOR WIN!" the twins bellowed.

"THAT'S THE SAME THING!" she laughed.

A few laps around the hall later, Dumbledore finally finished his speech. "It seems we need a slight change in decorum." He clapped his hands and a red-gold banner replaced every other green-silver banner. Behind the staff table, the giant banner depicting Slytherin's serpent shrunk to half its size and was paired with Gryffindor's lion. A large trophy, the house cup, materialized on the staff table and Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, both highly bemused and a little taken a back, lifted the cup together to the cheering of all but the Slytherins.

The last week flew by in a flash. The next day their exams scores came, and only Hermione had passed with perfect marks. Vitani would have gotten perfect scores too if not for the 90 that marked her History of Magic exam. Who said bullshitting couldn't get you an A? All her friends had passed with good marks as well, and she wondered for a moment if any of her enemies had failed. Sadly, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy were still here, as stupid as they were, probably by some fiddling from Snape.

And soon it was the last day of school; their closets were emptied and their trunks were full, they were filing out to the tiny boats, they were sailing across the lake, they were climbing aboard the train and they were heading home. They talked and laughed about their crazy year as she, Harry, Fred, Daphne, Neville, Ron, George and Hermione all sat in their compartment, eating sweets and watching the world go by. And then it was time to leave the train and there were many rushed goodbyes and hugs, and Vitani even kissed Neville, Fred and George on the cheek.

As they left through the barrier, many people called out to Harry.

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Harry.

She turned away from them at that point to see her own family waiting to the side. Her mother and father, Roxanne and Linus and Emmelia all stood smiling. In her mother's arms was the tiny brown haired baby; she had barely gotten to know. She would have all summer to play with Nightingale.

"And how was your first year?" asked Roxy as they started to leave.

"Eh… a bit boring actually."

"Not from what we've heard," said Nichelle.

"Considering you broke into my work place," smirked Mordecai. "Not that you're in trouble or anything, given the circumstances, but would you mind not making trespassing into the Ministry a habit?"

"No promises."

They all laughed as they left the doors of King's Cross Station.

* * *

Perenelle was sorting through her china and silverware, wondering where she would give all these to when she passed. Her husband Nicolas was currently doing the same with the books in his study, sorting them and placing them into boxes labeled "Bibliothèque", "Beauxbatons and "Le don pour les enfants." Soon their house of six hundred years would be empty and void of life. They had wanted their house to be sold as a home, but the Ministère had insisted their house be left as a museum as testament to their immortality. They had told them to leave everything as it was, but she and her husband could not stand to let useful belongs sit forever when they could be put to good use.

She down on a chair in her kitchen, wondering if this would be the last time she would be able to dine with this cutlery, garden in the little box outside the window and cook with those pans. She was not afraid of death, but she was a little sad, and she sat with her head tilted down, staring at the grains in her hard wood table. A ring of a bell resounded through the house and she stood. Wondering if another Ministère employee had come to finalize the details. Who she found instead was a muggle postman, looking quite bewildered to be at such an old house tucked away in a rather modern neighborhood. He held out a small brown package and said, "Delivery for Monsieur Flamel."

She took the package and thanked the man. They wished each other good day and she went back inside to find her husband. Nicolas was knee deep in books, scratching his head at the mess, when she came in to his study.

"Who was that, mon ange?"

"It was a muggle postman. You have a package."

She gave him the small brown parcel, which he turned over in his hands. Printed across the brown paper in black ink was Nicolas Flamel.

"It doesn't have a return address," he said.

"Maybe it is inside."

He tore the brown paper and both he and his wife stood in awe at the object that fell into his hand. A small piece of parchment fluttered to the ground where it was forgotten; there was no distraction that could pull their eyes from the blood red stone in his hands. He held it up to a candle, rolled it around in his hands and held it close to his face.

"It's real, it's the real Philosopher's Stone," he gasped.

"But Monsieur Dumbledore said it was destroyed."

"This is not our stone, this was newly created!"

They looked at each other in awe at the small miracle in his hands.

"I guess that means we can stop packing," Perenelle laughed. Nicolas scooped her into his arms and kissed, happy to live a few more centuries with his beloved wife.

"But who could have possibly sent this?"

"Look Nicolas, a note."

He bent down to pick up the small piece of parchment and put his arm around his wife's waist. The parchment was barely two inches long and only a few words were written in English in a black sarcastic scrawl.

_**You're Welcome**_

* * *

**Holy crap it's done. Whoo! Thanks to all you guys whom favorite and followed and reviewed! Next is the two bonus chapters, hope you like them! I will start writing the second book right away! I'm actually planning out the next book, so hopefully it will be more coherent and interesting.**


	25. Bonus: The Philosopher's Stone

**A concise history of the Philosopher's Stone (as by Potter/Fanfiction canon: aka me!) This was also partially inspired by the manga/anime Fullmetal Alchemist. I HIGHLY recommend reading the manga or watching FMA: Brotherhood.**

* * *

_A battle waged for the worlds, for glory, greed, pride and perfection, _

_Boiled the blood of those bled in crimson splattered days,_

_And on the battle field congealed into a blood red stone,_

_For all to wield its powers as indiscriminately and passionately,_

_As those who died for it._

- Lady Esther Abel: Paris, 1792, Second-class Alchemist under the French Ministry of Magic

The moment humanity came to understand the meaning of mortality was also the moment humanity began to strive for something to prolong their lives with any means possible. Like all precious resources and powers, the ability to extend life was fought over continuously for centuries. Unlike other resources and powers, there was yet to be any identifiable source for this ability, or at least, one not transferable to humans. For quite a long time wizards and muggles alike hunted beasts said to have life giving blood or preserving flesh; in this way Unicorn blood was discovered to have similar life giving properties, though with disastrous consequences. It was not until the end of the Crusades that wizards began to settle down and look more carefully at the world around them for magical flora and fauna to suit their needs. It was also at this time that a document surfaced from long buried archives and restored by magical processes to reveal an element capable of granting immortality, wealth and perfection. From here the legend of the Philosopher's Stone was born.

Though the document was restored by magic, the writing was nearly illegible and needed to be translated from ancient Greek. The document was apparently labeled as _Gi Tou Filosófou_ (The Earth of the Philosopher). This is most likely the origin of the name _lapis philosophorum _(philosopher's stone). The document was found hidden in a shrine in the mountains of present day island of Crete. It is in journal form, dated back during the Bronze Age of the Minoan civilization, also located on present day island of Crete. The narrator appears to be an intellectual and/or follower of a man called Ήλιος (_Helios_: Sun). The journal describes brief periods of time with the man called Helios, the start of primitive alchemy in the area, and the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, the sole goal and life ambition of every alchemist in history.

The first entry only depicts the man called Helios coming from a land off of the island. It gives little description of the man himself. The tone and information given suggests the entry was written after several occasions with Helios.

_I remember he came by a small floating vessel unlike any I had ever seen. He came nearly naked, with no tools or food of any kind, yet he was as well fed as the wealthiest merchant. He also came with no name and so in time he was deemed Helios, for he was as grand and as otherworldly as the sun itself._

* * *

The next legible entry seems to occur several months after the first, and depicts the narrator's village after the arrival of Helios. The narrator's last words may be the first instance of Helios' use of alchemical transmutation.

_The crops do not cease, but grow perpetually as they are harvested. The animals are full and fattened and produce in ever-growing number. The village is without illness or injury and if any such should appear, it is to disappear within the moon's flight. The marble of the villa and square never crack or wear, but shine illustriously. No man is poor, homeless or hungry. Helios turns water into wine. Helios turns lead into gold. No resource is so rare or so precious to Helios, for as long as he hath the earth, he may conjure a bounty._

* * *

The next entry describes the first alchemical principles, still used today as the foundations of modern alchemy, being taught to the narrator.

_He holds a long stick to the earth and drew a circle. "This is the Earth. It is also the Sun. It is also the Stars. It is also the heavens that hold the Earth and the Sun and the Stars. It is also you, and your children and your children's children… It is everything that is cyclic. Life, death and rebirth; the flow of energy that guides everything we know." _

_He drew a triangle inscribed by the circle. At each point he drew a strange symbol unlike any I hath ever seen. He pointed to the top symbol. "This is Sulfur, or the Soul. It is the volatile principle. It is the identity of every life in our know universe. You have a soul, the cattle you raise has a soul, even the wheat you grow has a soul…" I looked at him with incredulity and he gave a great laugh. "I am no fool, let me explain further. A soul gives identity and therefore existence. It is a unique energy. Wood contains energy, and is transferred into heat and light when burned. You eat food and you can work. Those forms of energy can be transformed and transferred into one another and to different places, but none of them can be created or destroyed. The soul is different; it is energy of tremendous magnitude, more powerful than light or heat or other and cannot be transformed into any other form of energy. It is however finite, just like the other energies, and can neither be created nor destroyed."_

_He pointed to the left symbol. "This is Salt, or the Body. It is the stable principle. All matter is a body, whether organic or inorganic. A soul is simply a hallow existence; it needs a body to house itself. However, when a soul enters a body, it is limited to the functions of that body and must acclimate to it. If every life has a soul, than why does a human act differently from an ewe or a bird? It is because the soul changed to suite its vessel."_

_He pointed to the right symbol. "This is Mercury, or the Spirit. It is the bonding principle. It is the force that binds the soul to the body. Everyday you consume meat and vegetation in order to replenish the spirit, or energy that keeps you alive and moving. If you were to starve, you would eventually lose too much of your spirit and the volatile soul would escape from your body. You would not die, but you would not be able to regain life either. Without the soul, a person loses all self interest and will not eat, further depleting the spirit until it has entirely left the body. That is death."_

_He drew another triangle inscribed by the circle and when the two triangles overlapped, they became a hexagram. "This hexagram represents the four elements: Fire, Air, Water and Earth. These elements together make an organic body and, when combined with spirit and a soul, create life. Life cannot exist without the three principles and the four elements, and the seven of them must all be balanced correctly in order to preserve life. The four elements and the three principles are also used in different quantities to create all that surrounds us."_

"_By using a transmutation circle like this one I have drawn, you can channel the natural flow of energy in the Earth and channel it to transmute materials into different shapes and forms. The transmutation must follow the natural laws as well, such as Equivalent Exchange. Input must equal output; one object of a certain mass can be transmuted into another of the same mass; one object of a certain substance can be transmuted into another of the same substance. Grains of sand into a mountain, grass into bread, so long as there is the correct amount of the correct materials, transmutation is possible._

* * *

The last narrative entry describes the narrator learning of the _lapis philosophorum_ as well as Helios' apparent death. From the description of the dead body, it appears that Helios may have been lengthening his time with the Elixir of Life. It is unknown what happened to the narrator or the Philosoper's Stone.

_He held his hand out to show me a round blood red stone. "I have found the breaker of Equivalent Exchange, and I show it to you. Water should be water, not wine. Alchemy can change water's form, move it between spaces, but cannot change its mass or composition. Lead should be lead, not gold. Lead can be broken into parts, melted together, formed into new forms, but cannot be changed to another element. Yet with this stone I can achieve these feats no other can. It can bring great good and great evil. It can give life and steal life, despite the laws of Equivalent Exchange. It is red like the blood that gives life and the blood seen at death. It is a neutral substance that only the user can guide. My teacher gave it to me, and his teacher and his teacher. I give to you." I woke the next light, and he was cold in the bed that I lent him, shriveled and aged beyond time._

* * *

The next entry is a list of materials needed to make the Philosopher's Stone. However, the narrator has used placeholders in the stead of the actual ingredients. It is believed that the narrator memorized these ingredients to be passed on orally to the next owner of Helios' Philosopher's Stone.

πρωτογενές υλικό(primary material): The source of energy that gives the stone its seemingly infinite power and is necessary to break the laws of equivalent exchange.

καθαρό υλικό (pure material): The substance that comprises of the positive half of the stone.

σάπιος υλικό (putrid material): The substance that comprises of the negative half of the stone.

καταστολέα υλικό (suppressor material): Suppresses the power of the stone so as to be handled by the bare hands without injury.

θρομβωτική υλικό (coagulative material): Turns the ingredients from liquid to stone and back, according to the users will.

The Philosopher's Stone, The Celestial Stone, The Great Elixir, The Red Tincture, The Fifth Element; its many names are as diverse as the possibility of ingredients it may have originated from. Using this newfound knowledge, many wizards pursued the elusive and mysterious ingredients that may combine to create the stone. These wizards whom spent generations looking for the materials came to be know as alchemists, for experimenting with muggle sciences, magic and alkaloids. These alchemists travelled the world and found many of the materials found in the current stone used by the Flamels. These materials are incredibly hard to obtain due to the danger involved in finding them or the time it takes to obtain them. Because of this, it has been deemed impossible to acquire all the materials of the stone from their original sources within one's lifetime without tampering with time or the laws of reality. Nicholas Flamel came to have all the ingredients by borrowing, being gifted, and/or possibly stealing the ingredients from other wizards whose families had gather them over time. Below is a list of the necessary materials to make Flamel's version of the Philosopher's Stone, in order of importance.

* * *

_Lion Turtle Fruit_

Three things happen to a being when it dies. First, the body is returned to the earth. Second, the spirit is released to the environment with other energy. And third, the soul of the being is dispersed. Souls are collected in the oceans and circulate around the globe, entering new bodies of life, such as offspring. Some souls end up in the lungs of continental lion turtles, the same creatures that pull the tectonic plates. The souls circulate in the blood to the shell of the turtle where a large forest grows. The souls end up in the fruit of these trees where it can be used to make the stone. The stone derives its blood red color from the red skin of the fruit. These fruit naturally fall off under water and decompose, returning the souls to the oceans circulation and to living creatures.

Each fruit is said to contain 100,000 souls that provide the immense energy stored in the stone; it takes 5 or a multiple of 5 parts of fruit (i.e. Using either five fruits, twenty fruits, one fruit split into 5, etc.) in order to create the stone. Bluntly speaking, this means 100 thousand to 500 thousand or more beings must die in order to create the stone. Once made, about a quarter of a soul is used in each transmutation, depending on the complexity of the transmutation, meaning the stone has the possibility of being used 400 thousand to 2 million times or more, making the stone seem infinite. The stone apparently does not physically erode; when the stone is completely used up it will simply disappear. Due to the migration patterns of the turtles, and the low frequency they surface to breathe (30 years), the fruit is very difficult to obtain.

[Editors Note: Another shorter lived but readily accessible source of souls is to use five or a multiple of five live humans as fuel. Though all beings have the same quantity of souls (one), humans have the most similar composition to the fruit in comparison to other animals/plants. However, five humans will only yield 20 uses of the stone.]

* * *

_Unicorn Blood_

Unicorn blood is used in the purification process of the stone. This process is as equally important as the putrefaction process, as the stone must be balanced in positive and negative forces in order to contain its massive energy. It is not very dangerous to obtain Unicorn blood, but it is very difficult. The unicorn is the fastest equine creature on the planet, moving at speeds close to 80mph (≈128km/h), and cannot be slowed by a stunning or slowing spell due to its magical coat. Killing the unicorn would taint the blood, so the blood must be taken while the unicorn is alive, and not under stress, as this also taints the blood.

The only known way to take blood is to have a muggle veterinarian withdraw the blood, as wizard healers are notorious for botching simple muggle procedures. Using drugs to calm the unicorn also taints the blood, and unicorns are extremely frightened by sharp objects such as needles, inducing more stress. Only witches and female muggles can sooth the animal enough for the procedure to be done. When the blood is collected, the muggle's memory is erased. Five quarts of blood is needed to make the stone.

* * *

_Dementor's Third Eye_

The Dementor's third eye is used in the putrefaction process of the stone. The eye is actually a large bundle of nerves lodged into the skull of the Dementor; these nerves are what allow the Dementor to sense human emotion. Fifty eyes are needed to make the stone. There are two types of Dementors: the Common Dementor, found in the prison Azkaban, and the Higher Dementor. A Common Dementor becomes a Higher Dementor by eating one of its brethren, which is extremely rare; this is also the only way to kill a Common Dementor. A Higher Dementor then transforms into a large, muscular, humanoid creature with smooth gray skin and black hair. For reasons unknown, they are all male, and gain a conscience upon transformation. They can easily summon large medieval weapons, though they favor bladed weapons such as axes and scythes. Higher Dementors eat all but the eye of the Common Dementors, as they taste bitter. A wizard must be very cautious when asking for the eyes from the Higher Dementors, as most encounters with them are fatal. Only three encounters have ever been recorded. The first was of a wizard that attempted to kill the Higher Dementor with Avada Kedavra. He was chopped to pieces and eaten. The second was of a pair of wizards that wanted to exchange a branch of Gubraithian fire for the eyes. The fire is the only way to make the Dementor's weapons, so it was accepted. The third encounter involved a witch promising to feed the Dementor her emotions for a year, in exchange for a years worth of eyes. The eyes were given to the witch's family, but she and the Dementor were never seen again.

* * *

_Serpent Glory's Tears/Folly's Tears_

The tears of a two-headed serpent called Dóxa Tréla, after the Glory head and Folly head, are needed to suppress the immense powers after the Lion Turtle fruit has been subjected to purification and putrefaction. Ten tears are needed. Dóxa is the glory head, the devastatingly ugly head, while Tréla, the folly head, is the devastatingly beautiful head. Their names come from their interactions with humans. The glory head is the friendliest, most merciful, and most helpful of the two heads, willing to spare tears for a wizard. However, many travelers are terrified of Dóxa's deadly appearance and voice and instead approach Tréla for tears. This, like the name suggests, is a folly. Tréla will snap up the approaching wizard quickly and mercilessly before the wizard realizes it. Many have gone into the underground lake where Dóxa Tréla lives, very few have come back out.

* * *

_Qilin Antlers_

Qilin antlers are the last ingredient used to make Flamel's stone and is used as a coagulating agent to solidify the liquid into stone, or any form the user wishes. A Qilin is a legendary beast native to China that is said to represent prosperity and serenity. Muggles have depicted the Qilin in various ways and forms, but the accurate form is a creature with the head of a dragon, antlers of a deer, body of a tiger and tail of an ox. Despite its fierce appearance, the Qilin is friendly to all except sinners. The antlers fall off naturally, so it is easy to gather them without conflict, though rare to find. However, many wizards believe that fresh antlers would be a stronger coagulating agent, and have attempted to hunt the Qilin, with disastrous consequences.

* * *

The steps to make the stone are as follows.

1. A transmutation circle must be drawn to channel the five ingredients together into the stone. A large, room sized circle, or one large enough to fit a cauldron in the middle, is recommended. The circle is composed of a circle, a pentagon inscribed into the circle, a second circle inscribed into the pentagon and a second pentagon inscribed into the second circle, both pentagons aligned. Before activating the circle at the end of set up, check to make sure the lines are not damaged. If the circle is broken in any way, the consequences are fatal.

2. Place a caldron in the exact middle of the transmutation circle. A stand is not required, as fire is not needed to heat the ingredients. Pour five quarts of Unicorn blood into the cauldron. The blood should be pure silver. If dull gray, then the blood is tainted, and should be discarded.

3. One by one, carefully drop the 50 Dementor eyes into the cauldron. Putting them in all at once will create a violent reaction and will cause the cauldron to explode, and severe acid burns. When all the eyes have been dissolved in, the liquid should be pure black.

4. Pour in the 10 Dóxa Tréla tears to the cauldron. The liquid should now be canary yellow.

5. Place the five fruits on the transmutation circle, one fruit for each point of the largest pentagon (Or place one human being at each point.)

6. LEAVE THE TRANSMUTATION CIRCLE AND ACTIVATE THE CIRCLE FROM AT LEAST TEN FEET AWAY. BEING NEAR THE CIRCLE MAY CAUSE YOUR SOUL TO JOIN WITH THE STONE. The circle is activated by shooting Avada Kedavra at the cauldron. The circle will light up and possibly blind you for a few seconds. During this time the fruit is combined alchemically with the liquid in the cauldron, the forces of life and death mingling together. The liquid should now be blood red.

7. When the light has gone and the transmutation circle has vanished, it is safe to approach the cauldron. Grind the Qilin antlers in a mortar to a powder, and add ten ounces of the powder to the cauldron.

8. Let the liquid sit for five hours. At the end of the five hours, a spherical stone wide will have solidified. The size of the stone depends on the number of souls locked in it.


	26. Bonus: Elves

**Contents**

_1. A brief summary of the classification of beings and beasts_

_2. What is it?_

_3. Common misconceptions_

_4. In the wild_

_5. Domestication_

* * *

1

The classification of a creature into a being category or beast category is a long and frightfully difficult process, which has an equally long and frightfully difficult history. Despite this, the terms of sorting a creature are relatively few and are as follows: body shape relative to humans, intelligence relative to humans, and civility relative to humans. So what is overlooked in this list? Why, it must be the obvious bias that every creature in some way or form must conform to human standards, no matter how broad or narrow. And thus we come to yet another large oversight in Wizarding culture, the Common Elf.

2

The Common Elf, known more frequently by the name "House Elf", is a humanoid creature with a rather short stature, large eyes and head, large pointed ears, little body hair and slightly wrinkled skin. They are found today in the residences of higher class wizards that have the "wealth" and "status" to own several servants, human, elf or otherwise. Elves are commonly employed in domestic service such as cooking, cleaning and childcare, and are also conditionally employed to guard the secrets of their respected masters. Elves generally have optimistic views of their masters, their masters' friends and humans in general and their position in life, but pessimistic views of themselves, their masters' enemies and "rogue" elves.

The Common Elf is extremely well suited for harsh environments, a possible factor leading to their "domestication". An elf's large eyes and ears are very sensitive to its environment, allowing the elf to scout for prey, predators, and adhere to their masters' orders with precision. Elves also possess highly sensitive and manipulative hands and feet, in fact most if not all elves are ambidextrous. It is thought that their large ears, wrinkled skin and little hair allow them to release heat more readily to survive in their natural tropical habitats. When not in this natural setting, elves will use their own brand of magic to keep themselves relatively safe, warm, cool, and the like.

3

There are many common misconceptions surrounding Common Elves, most created by the prejudice views of wizards. One misconception is that Common Elves are simply known by the name "House Elf", and that there is no other name for them. Another is that there is no other type of elf yet known to be in existence, meaning there is no point in distinguishing the elf as "common". The reason the creature is named such is because to higher-class wizards, elves are seen as "common peasants".

Another misconception born from prejudice is the low intelligence of elves. The Wizarding population typically views elves as unintelligent and irrational beings due to their low status, third person speaking manner, submissiveness, and erratic masochistic behaviors. Even wizards that treat elves as equals see them as highly uneducated, willingly or not. What many fail to comprehend is the massive cognitive and psychological brainpower that the elf wields.

The trend in animals is that the larger the brain is relative to the skull, the more intelligent the creature. Both muggle doctors and wizard healers agree that humans have the largest brain relative to their skull size, yet few healers know of the few autopsies that show that this is not the case. Elves, as of the date of this publication, have the largest brain relative to their skull. What's more, in tests that ranked both elves and humans on memory recall, inductive reasoning, consensus reasoning and self-awareness, Elves scored 20% higher than humans 98% of the time in all sections except self-awareness. Although Elves are aware of themselves as individuals with a conscious separate from other beings, they cannot, or in most cases do not want, to apply hypothetical situations involving themselves. It is also shown that elves simply have a greater capacity to store knowledge than humans, and can readily answer miscellaneous knowledge based questions, such as national capitals, basic translations, and historical figures. This large brain capacity has supposedly evolved to handle all the information an Elf may need to serve his master in any social, political or economic environment. However, most of the time the Elf is too humble or the master too stubborn to ask for the information the house Elf knows.

Another misconception surrounding Elves is their "weaker" brand of magic. With the exception of Goblins, most wizards view other types of magic from other magical beings as inferior to their own. However, this is the opposite; the wide spectrum in human magic has been heavily aided by the creation of wands. Without wands, the human capacity to use magic shrinks considerably. Elves, on the other hand, do not need wands or any verbal command to use their magic; usually a snap of the fingers or wave of the hand is enough. Elves can also bypass many human restriction spells, such as warding spells, anti-apparition spells and the like. Though very rarely has it ever occurred, Elves can use wands with just as much proficiency as a human can.

4

Elves are known to originally live in the tropics of middle Africa. They have survived their natural predators, leopards, crocodiles and various species of snakes, by living in the tops of Palmyra Palm trees. They tend to live in groups of up to 8 individuals, with the oldest female leading. They are omnivorous and can eat practically anything that grows or moves, though they prefer fresh fruit and nuts. Today, Elves are nearly extinct in the wild, with only a few colonies documented as hidden in the depths of the tropics. These Elves are not as friendly toward humans and will often run away at the sight of them.

5

At some point during the medieval era Elf populations within wealthy households began to soar. At first thought of as clever little creatures that could mimic their own magic, wizards began to realize that the Elves had traits for compassion and docility that no other sentient creature had. What's more, when two very benevolent Elves bred their children were much more subservient to a wizards orders. In the same way that silver foxes in Russia were domesticated by breeding more docile foxes together, Elves were bred in the thousands, each couple carefully paired in order to maximize the submissive traits in the offspring. Within a hundred years the Elves were as subservient and loyal as they are today, with little change over the next eight centuries.


End file.
